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VUV.SV.XXVA 


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Corporal ^i \[\e(^(^ 

AND HIS -PARD/' 



How THEY Lived and Talked, and what they Did 

AND Suffered, while Fighting 

FOR the Flag. 



BY 

WILBUR F, ]piNMAN, 



Late Lieutenant-Colonel Sixt3'-fifth Regiment Ohio Veteran 
Volunteer Infantry. 



With 193 Original Illustrations drawn by 
George Y. Coffin. 



" The neighing troop, the flashing blade, 
The bugle's stirring blast. 
The charge, the dreadful cannonade. 
The din and shout are past." 

— Theodore O'Hara. 



Uleyenth Edition. 



CLEVELAND, OHIO. 

The N. G. Hamilton Publishing CO. 

1898. 



Copyright, 1 887, 
BY WILBUR F. HINMAN 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 



^Af-t- 









WITH TENDER RECOLLECTIONS OF 

MY " PARD," 

Who fell at Chickamauga, September 20, 1863, 
T inscribe this Volume 

TO 

His Memory. 

we slept under the same blanket and 

"drank from the same 

CANTEKN." 



THE AUTHOR TO HIS READERS. 

MANY books have been written — and many more will 
be — upon subjects connected with the war for ih& 
Union. There is no end of histories — of campaigns and 
battles and regiments— and lives of prominent generals; 
but these do not portray the every-day life of the soldier. 
To do this, and this only, has been the aim of the author 
in "Corporal Si Klegg and his ' Pard.' " 

This volume is not a history; nor is it a "story," in the 
usual acceptation of the word. "Si Klegg"and "Shorty," 
his "pard." are imaginarj' characters— though their pro- 
totypes were in every regiment — and Company Q, 200th 
Indiana, to which they belonged, is, of course, ficti- 
tious. Their iiaps and mishaps while undergoing the 
process of transformation that made them soldiers, and 
their diverse and constantly changing experiences on the 
march, the battle-field and the picket-line, in camp and 
bivouac, in hospital and prison, were those that entered 
dircctlv into the daily life or observation of all the sol- 
diers. 

Carefully avoiding everything in the nature of burlesque 
or extravagance, the \vriter has aimed to present a truth- 
ful picture of "soldiering." He feels justified in the belief 
that such of his comrades as m.ay read these pages will, at 
least, give him the credit of fidelity to the actual life of a 
million volunteers. 

This book has not been written from hearsay. It waf 
the writer's fortune to serve four years at the front, in 9 
regiment which, with eleven hundred men on its rolls, fro©? 



VI PREFACE. 

first to last, was reduced b\^ the casualties of battle and 
the ravages of disease to one hundred and thirty, officers 
and men, present for duty at the time it \vas mustered out. 
It had traveled fifteen thousand miles — more than six 
thousand on foot. During the first year of his service the 
V\rriter carried a musket and knapsack. These facts are 
mentioned only to show that he had abundant experience, 
without which it would be folly to attempt such a book 
as this. 

The vivid memories of those four eventful years have 
supplied all the material. No other source has been drawn 
upon for information or suggestion. The author has made 
no attempt at literary embroidery, but has rather chosen 
the "free and easy" form of language that marked the in- 
tercourse of the soldiers, and therefore seemed most ap- 
propriate to the theme. He has tried to flavor the narra- 
tive with the spice of army life — for there was some "fun," 
though a great deal more of the reverse character — en- 
, deavoring to present the picture in all its varied hues. 

Thinking it possible that some may read this volume 
who have no experimental knowledge of life in the army, 
the author has devoted pages, here and there, to informa- 
tion of an explanatory nature, which he hopes will assist 
them in appreciating, perhaps as never before, how the 
soldiers lived — and died. 

The patriotism, the sacrifice and the suffering were not 
confined to the army. The home scenes herein presented 
were common to every city and village and hamlet, from 
Maine to California. 

It is believed that the illustrations will prove an attract- 
ive feature. They v^ere all drawn expressly for this work, 
and cover every phase of the subject. They -will bring to 
the eyes of the veterans many scenes that were familiar in 
days long past. The author wishes to express his obliga- 
tion to Mr. George Y. Coffin, whose ready pencil and fer- 
tile mind have so faithfully carried out his designs. He 



PREFACE. VM 

appreciates the more highly this assistance, because he 
coLild never, himself, "draw" anything except rations. 

With fraternal greetings to all his late comrades-in-arms 
the author sends out this volume, indulging the hope that 
they may find pleasure and interest in Hving over again the; 
stirring scenes of a quarter of a century ago, in the expe- 
riences of "Si Klegg" and "Shorty." 

Wilbur F. Hinman. 

Washington, D. C, September, 1887. 



CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER I. 

Page, 
Ik which Si Klegg, Carried Away by his Tumultuous Emotions, 
Enlists in Company Q of the Two Hundredth Indiana 1 

CHAPTER II. 

The Commotion at the Farm-House Caused by Si's Appearance 

in Uniform— The Conflict Between Mars and Venus 13 

CHAPTER HI. 

In which & IS Provided with a Bountiful Outfit, Makes Satis- 
factory Progress with Annabel, and Starts for the War.. 28 

CHAPTER IV. 

Contains Some Observations on a Soldier's Equipments, and 

Sees the 200th Indiana Off for the Front..... 41 

CHAPTER V. 

In which the Bright Colors that Fancy Painted Begin to 
Fade — The Soldier and his " Pard "—How Si was Led from 
the Straight and Narrow Way of Soldierly R^ectitude 62 

CHAPTER VI. 

Si is Armed and Equipped for Active Hostilities— The Bayonet 
as a Factor in War 82 

CHAPTER VII. 

The 200th Indiana Draws Mules and Dress-Coats, and Closes 

the Day with a Dress-Parade... 94 

CHAPTER VIII. 

In ^^rHICH Si is Disciplined by a "Knapsack Drill" and Gets 
Even with the Orderly, but Suffers in Consequence , 107 



X CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER IX, 

In which Si Takes his First Lesson in the Manual of Arms and 

Company Drill 120 

CHAPTER X. 

The 200th Indiana Gets Marching Orders and Si Packs his 

Knapsack 134 

CHAPTER XI. 

In which Si's Big Knapsack Proves too Much for him and he 

Applies Heroic Treatment 141 

CHAPTER XII. 

Si Finishes the Day's March, Nurses his Blisters, and is De- 
tailed to Help Put Up the Colonel's Tent 164 

CHAPTER XIII. 
Which Illustrates the Depravity of the Veteran Soldiers 174 

CHAPTER XIV. 

In which. Overcome by his Aches and Blisters, Si Falls Out and 

Finds How Hard it is to " Ketch Up " 187 

CHAPTER XV. 

How Si Wrestled with the Hardtack— Some Remarks on the 
Soldier's Bill of Fare 196 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Si Gets a Letter from Annabel and Answers it Under Diffi- 
culties 213 

CHAPTER XVII. 

In which Si's Cherished Desire to Drive a Mule Team is Fully 

Satisfied 224 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Si Smells Powder, Behaves Handsomely, and is Made a Cor- 
poral • 234 



CONTENTS. XJ 

CHAPTER XIX. 

"Should Old Acquaintance be Forgot, and Never Brought to 
Mind?" — The Little Bug with the Big Name 243 

CHAPTER XX. 
6l HAS Some Practical Lessons in the Duties of a Corporal 262 

CHAPTER XXI. 

ii HAS A Varied Experience in Camp and Goes upon an Exasper- 
ating "Wild Goose Chase" 272 

CHAPTER XXII. 

Corporal Klegg Gets a Little Practice in Confiscating, has 

A Vigorous Colic, and Joins teie Procession at Sick-Call 286 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

The Army has a Spasm of Morality and Rests on Sunday — It 
Proves a Cold Da V for 8hokty 301 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

iK WHICH Si's Temper and Muscles ake Sorely Tried, and he 
Narrow^ly Escapes Getting into Trouble 316 

CHAPTER XXV. 

Si Goes Marching on Amidst Rain and Snow, and has his Pa- 
triotism Severely Taxed 330 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

Si has his First Interview with the Paymaster, and is Beguiled 
INTO THE Uncertain Game of "Chuck-a-Luck".. 347 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

Ik which Si Goes Foraging, is Caught in a Spider's Web and 
has a Close Call 364 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

Santa Claus Fails to Connect with Corporal Klegg, whose 
ONLY Christmas Present is an Order to March 377 



xii CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

P>GB 

The 200th Indiana Marches to Battle, and Si Klegg Experi- 
ences the Thrilling Emotions THAT Precede THE Conflict... 387 

CHAPTER XXX. 

Si and Shorty are Tried in the Fire and Prove to ue Pure 

Gold 404 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

Scenes After the Battle — Calling the Roll and Burying the 
Dead 415 

CHAPTER XXXII. 

The 200th Indiana has a Protracted Turn of Fatigue Duty — 
Si Wrestles with Pick and Shovel and Tries to Out- 
flank THE Doctors 428 

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

In which Si Serves as a Railway Train Guard and has a Call 

from Guerrillas 440 

CHAPTER XXXIV. 

The Rebels Cut the " Cracker-Line," and Si is Put on Quarter 

Rations 451 

CHAPTER XXXY. 

•"Corporal Klegg Bears the Flag of the 200th to Victory and 

IS Wounded 469 

CHAPTER XXXVI. 

Si Spends a Night in the Field Hospital and Sees Some of 

the Horrors of War 486 

CHAPTER XXXVII. 

Si Gets a Furlough, and is Surprised Beyond Measure to Find 

Himself Famous 506 

CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

Bad News Reaches the Klegg Family, but it Proves to be Un- 
true 511 



CONTENTS. X111 

CHAPTER XXXIX. 

?ORPORA^ Xlegg Reaches Home and there i& Happiness all 
/iROUND 52& 

CHAPTER XL. 

Si Gets a Big Letter from the Governor, Answers it, ai:_ Re- 
joins HIS Regiment 54r 

CHAPTER XLI. 

Si and Shorty Re- enlist and Go Home on Veteran Furlough... 55^ 

CHAPTER XLII. 

In which the Boys are Domiciled in "Pup" Tents— Some Curi- 
ous Features of Army Life 574 

CHAPTER XLHI. 

Si Enters Upon the Last Great Campaign which Ends the 
War 59? 

CHAPTER XLIV. 

AN Unexpected Calamity Befalls Corporal Klegg and his 
Comrade 60* 

CHAPTER XLV. 

In which Si and Shorty Experience many Vicissitudes, but 
their Pluck Brings them Through ,. 62? 

CHAPTER XLVL 

Si aND Shorty Take Sweet Revenge Upon the Enemy — Cor- 
poral Klegg AIeets with a Sore Bereavement 64*. 

CHAPTER XLVn. 
The End Comes at Last, and Si Puts Off the Army Blue 66'. 

CHAPTER XLVHL 

Si Finds it Much Easier to Get Married than to (jET a 
Pension 676 



LIST OP ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

1 — The Recruiting Officer 2 

'^— Si Klegg 5 

»-; — Stimulating Village Patriotism 9 

4 — An Average Army " Fit." 12 

5— Si and his Mother 16 

6 — Calamitous Effect of the News upon " Sister Marier." 20 

7— At the Neighbor's 27 

8— A Model Outfit 30 

3— A Delusion of the War 33 

I 0— A Satisfactory' State of Affairs 37 

LI— Off to the War 40 

'.2— The Army Overcoat 46 

13— Si Finds his Match 48 

14— Shorty 49 

15 — Useful Career of the Canteen 56 

16 — Si's First Encounter v^itli the Veterans 64 

:'7— A Baptism 68 

13- Hospitality 71 

19— Stealing a Bed 80 

20 — In Panoply of War 88 

21— What Si Expected to do with his Bayonet 89 

'J2— The Actual Uses he Found for It...... 92 

23— The "Sweat-box." 96 

24— A Literal Interpretation lOO' 

25 — The Drum-major 102 

"6 — Si's First Penance 109 

27 — Veterans on a Frolic ll.'<} 

28 — Si Forgets Himself 117 

29— A Rude Awakening 118 

30—" Load in Nine Times— Load ! " 123 

31—" Ouch!" 124 

32— "Right Shoulder Shift— Arms! " 125 

33~" Fix— Bayonet ! " 126 

3^-" Left— Face ! " 127 

35— " Right— Face ! " 128 

36—" Company— Right Wheel! " , 131 



XVI ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

37— The Long Roll ^35 

38— The Tug of War 14i 

39— Ready for the March 151 

40 — A Serious Miscalculation 157 

•41 — The Shrinkage Begins 162 

42— The Rush for Water 166 

43— After a Day's Tramp 168 

44 — Fleecing the Lambs 176 

45 — A Prima Facie Case 184 

46— "Don't Stab Me." 191 

47 — Hydropathic Treatment 191 

48 — Si Defies a Regiment of Veterans 194 

49— A Test of Jaw-Power 19? 

50— The Last Resort 198 

51— The Effect of " Getting Used to It.". 199 

52— The Flesh of Swine 204 

53— A Simple Process 205 

54—" All Right, Boss, Dat's a Go." 206 

55—" Mail When You Get to Camp, Boys! " 216 

56 — Epistolary Work in the Trenches 217 

57— Si's First Letter 219 

58— Another Case of Discipline 221 

59— "Sit Still, Please." 223 

60— An Army Team 226 

61— A Close Shave ■. 229 

62—" A Man Overboard." 230 

63— Total Depravity 232 

64— In the Slough 233 

65— Nearly a Panic 237 

66— Si's First Shot 238 

67— A Good Beginning 240 

68— Corporal Si Klegg '. 242 

•69 — A Lesson in Natural History' 246 

70 — Practical Instruction 251 

71— "Skirmishing." 252 

72— The Pcdiculus , 253 

73 — One of Life's Pleasures 255 

74 — A Few Old Acquaintances 258 

75— Corporal Klegg Gets Caught 266 

76_"Not 'Less Ye Say 'Biniker Hill!'" 268 

77 — Si and the Contraband 270 

78— A Dead Shot 271 

79 — "Policing" Camp 273 

80—" A Little More Cider, too." 277 

81— The Army Laundry 279 



ILLUSTRATIONS. XVU 

PAGBr 

82— A Scamper in Dishabille 281 

83— The Btisy Bee 291 

84— The 200th Indiana Takes to the Water 293 

85— A Prematin-e Harvest 294. 

86— A "Bully Boy's" Burden 295 

87— Laying in Supplies 297 

88— A Red-Letter Day 298 

89— A Clear Case of Colic 299 

90— "Sick-Call." 300 

91— Si Interviews the Doctor 300 

92 -The Captain at Early Roll-Cah 305 

93— "Sir, the Guard is Formed." 306 

94— Shorty's Cold Day 309 

95 — Calling to Repentance 311 

96 — The Way of the Transgressor 314 

97— " Sir, I am a Corporil ! " 323 

98— "Now, All Together! " 325 

99 — "Looting" the Colonel's Mess-chest 327 

100— A Nocturnal Picnic 329 

101— ^' Go to Bed." 332 

102— A Cyclone in Camp 333 

103-Going for the " Top-Rail.".. 335 

104 — Supper under Difficulties 336 

105— "No Slouch of a Shanty." 338 

106— Lubricating Oil Needed 338 

107— A Polar Experience 342 

108— "Paying Off." 350 

109— His Autograph 353 

110 — " 'Leven Dollars 'n' Fort^^-three Cents ! " 355 

111— Chuck-a-luck , 358 

112— The Sutler's Harvest 360 

113— A Southern "Mossback." 366 

114 — Confiscation 369 

115— Robbing the Calf...; 371 

116— The Tables Turned 374 

117— The Value of Good Legs 375 

118— Christmas Morning 380 

119— The Fate of Si's Box 388 

120— A Cheerful Legend 384 

121— Ready for Business 388 

122— They Stop for Nothing 388 

123— Behind the Rails -. 391 

124— A Hasty Evacuation 393 

1.25— "There!" 400 

i26— Into the Battle 102 



XYlll ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

127— " Steady, Men! " , 403 

128— "Pkick." 407 

129— The Charge of the 200th Indiana 413 

130 — A Comrade in Distress 414 

131— "For God's Sake,- Help!" 420 

132— "We Carved Not a Line, We Raised Not a Stone." 426 

133— The Call to Breakfast 430 

134— Talking it Over 433 

135— Camp Ablutions 436 

136— An Unexpected Guest 439 

137 — "Riding on a Rail" in the Army 444 

138- Loading Up 447 

139— A Brush with Guerrillas 450 

140— Cheers for the General 454 

141— Condolence 457 

142— Reinforcements 462 

143— The Rush for Rations 463 

144— "Hello, Johnny! "—"Hello, Yank!" 466 

145— A Misdeal 473 

146— Breakfast Before the Fight 477 

147— Hugging the Ground 480 

14&— Yielding to the Inevitable 482 

149— The Charge up the Ridge 484 

150— In the Surgeon's Care 488 

151— The Field Hospital 490 

152— Under the Knife 492 

153— The Two " Pards " 495 

154— Death of Poor Tom 502 

155— The Ambulance Train 506 

156— The War Correspondent 509 

157— Si Finds Himself Famous 513 

158— News for Farmer Klegg 516 

159— " My Boy is Not Dead ! " 525 

160 — Farmer Klegg's Drive 527 

161— "Hello, Si!" 529 

162— Home! 533 

163— Si's Barnj^ard Welcome 535 

164— Si at the Corner Grocery 548 

165— A Letter from the Governor 550 

166— A Momentous Question 555 

167— Si Starts the Veteran Roll 563 

168— On the Way to "God's Country." 571 

169— The Shrinkage of the Tent 577 

170— The " Pup " Tent 580 

171— Si as a Veteran 584 



ILLUSTRATIONS. xix 

PAGE 

172— Not to be Caught Napping 594< 

173— On the Skirmish Line 599 

174 — Laying a Pontoon Bridge Under Fire 602 

175— " Attention ! " 604 

176— Fort Klegg , 606' 

177— Compelled to Surrender 609 

178— A Fruitless Dash 615 

179— A One-sided Bargain 621 

180— "Treed." 632 

181— Another Break 636 

182— In the Prison-pen 642 

183— In the Swamp 644 

184— Return of the Vagabonds 646 

185 — Destro3'ing a Railroad 649 

186— Under a Truce 653 

187 — " He was my pard." 663 

188— Around the Camp-fire 667 

189— Leading the Jamboree 673 

190— After a Visit to the Tailor 674 

191— The New Crop of Infantrj' 678 

192— The Corps Badges 698-700 

lS3~The Bugle CaUs , 700-704 



<5orporal Si \[\e(^(^. 



CHAPTER I. 

In Which Si Klegg, Carried Away by His Tumultuous Emotions. 
Enlists in Company Q, of the Two Hundredth Indiana. 

LATE in the summer of 1862, a smart-looking young 
man made his appearance in a httle village in the 
hoop-pole region of Indiana. On his shoulders were the 
straps of a second lieutenant. His brand-new uniform, 
faultless in cut and make, fitted him "like the paper on the 
wall." His step was brisk, and he cultivated a military 
air with untiring assiduity. His padded coat bulged out 
over his patriotic bosom like the niainsail of a ship 
scudding before a spanking breeze ; and this was made the 
more conspicuous by his extreme eredtness of carriage as 
he strutted among the quiet village folk. He was proud 
of his new clothes, with their shining brass buttons, and 
])roud of himself. His face \vore a fierce and sanguinary 
look, as if he chafed under the restraint which kept him 
beneath peaceful northern skies. His eyes seemed longing 
to gaze upon the lurid flames of war. Everybody im- 
agined that he was consuming with a desire to rush to the 
front, that he might plunge into scenes of carnage. 

Ke was a recruiting officer. 

As he w\\\ soon disappear from the narrative, it may be 
remarked here that he did not want to wade in blood half 
as badly as people thought he did, nor, quite possibly, as 
he thought himself. He had no occasion to invest in 
rubber boots to wear on the battlefield. He did not get 



THE VILLAGE WONDER. 



SO much as a sniff of powder in a state of violent com- 
bustion. Before the regiment was organized his health 
suddenly gave way and he resigned. 

But at this time he appeared the very embodiment of 
martial ardor — an ideal soldier. The simple-hearted gray- 
beards of the village put on their spe6lacles to look at 
him; the lasses blushed at their own admiring glances as he 
passed in his ma- 
jestic splendor; 
the young men, in 
jeans and home- 
spun, gazed with 
envy upon his 
symmetry of 
shape and gor- 
geous apparel, 
and wished the}' 
migh t be like him ; 
the small boys 
looked upon him 
with unutterable 
awe, and trailed 
after him through ,,^y,(W^jj' 
the streets as 
though he were 
the drum -major 
of a Lrass band. 

Such was the 
advent of the re- 
cruiting officer into this quiet hamlet. A few of its readj 
sons had gone to the war in '61, moved by the mighty 
feeling that so profoundly stirred the north after the fall 
of Sumter; but this was the first effort there to raise a 
company, under the great call for volunteers in 1862, 
which seemed to say to every one, "Thou art the man !" 

The officer procured a room over the village postoffice. 




THE RECRUITING OFFICER. 



PREPARING TO GATHER THEM IN. 3 

and hiing out of the window a big flag that brushed the 
heads of the passers-by. Buildings and fences far and near 
were decorated . with flaming posters, which set forth in 
starthng t3^pe the unequaled advantages guaranteed to 
those who should enlist in Company O of the 200th 
Indiana regiment. After reading the placard the con- 
nding 3'outh would imagine that the patriots of that 
company would always have carriages to ride in and 
leather beds to sleep, on ; they would be clad in purple and 
tine linen and fare sumptuously every da}^, with cream in 
their cofiee and "soft bread " all the year round. None of 
them would get hurt, as many of the less fortunate soldieis 
did; they would while away the time in guarding prisoners 
or on provost or headquarters duty. In short, Company 
Q would have for three ^^ears little else than a protracted 
picnic. 

This was the alluring idea conveyed by the posters and 
the advertisement conspicuously displayed in the village 
paper. The worthy editor, who believed that the pen was 
mightier than the sword, wrote a notice highly commen 1- 
ing the fexnart young oflicer, and calling attention to the 
rare privileges that would be enjoyed bj^ all who joined 
his company. Of course, he knew all about it because the 
smart young officer told him. The oracular words of the 
editor were not without effect in stimulating the spirit of 
enlistment in the village and the region round about. The 
grand impulse of '61 had spent its force in this community 
as elsewhere, and a little urging was often found to be nec- 
essary. The recruiting officer who could hold out the 
most sedudtive inducements w^as likely to reap the most 
abundant harvest. At least such was the theory that 
governed recruitment after the first spontaneous rush 
to arms. 

Having thus adroitl}^ scattered the seed, the oflScer hired 
a fifer and drummer to stand on the sidewalk at the foot 
of the stairs and play "Yankee Doodle" and other inspir- 



i SI KLEGG, THE FARMER S BOY. 

ing tunes, and then sat down in his office to gather in the 
crop. As soon as a recruit was enlisted he was arrayed in 
baggy blue clothes and sent forth as a- missionary to 
bring in others. Under all these favorable conditions the 
roll of Company Q lengthened rapidly. 

One day while this was going on Si Klegg drove into 
the village with a lot of butter, eggs and other farm truck, 
which his mother had commissioned him to exchange for 
jjundry groceries needed to replenish the larder of the Klegg 
household. He was a red-cheeked, chubby-faced boy who 
had some distance yet to go before getting out of his teens. 
He had worked hard ever since he was large enough to 
make himself useful. The demand for his services upon the 
farm, increasing as he grew^ older, had confined within 
narrow limits his opportvinities for education. These had 
not gone beyond a few Avinters at the "distri6l school." 
He had seen nothing of the great w^orld that lay be^^ond 
the bounds of his immediate neighborhood. 

Si had a frenzied attack of war fever in '61, when the 
drums beat in response to the President's first call. His 
parents were not willing that he shoidd go on account of 
his 3'outh. He was a good lad — his father's pride and his 
mother's joy. He pleaded that the war w^ould only last a 
few^ weeks and that his whole future life would be embit- 
tered by the thought that he had no hand in it. But the 
parental heart was for the time inexorable, and Si 
obediently yielded, secretly indulging the hope, however, 
that the rebels would not be whipped until he should be 
old enough to go. 

As the weeks sped away none w^ere more eager than he 
to hear the news. When he read of a little skirmish that 
had resulted favorably to the Unior troops he swung his 
hat and shouted wnth the rest ; but there was a sinking of 
his heart, because he thought the war w^as about over and 
lie w^as going to "get left." Then v^'hen he heard of 



A MALIGNANT CASE OF WAR FEVER. 



another brush— people called them all battles then — in 
•which half a dozen Union pickets had been captttred, he 
lamented the success of the foes o^ his country, but his 
spirits rose as he thought that possibly, after all he might 
yet be a soldier and with the soldiers stand ; a knapsack on 
his back and a musket in his hand. 

Then when the President called for three hundred thou- 
sand men for three j^ears, Si's heart gave a, great leap. 
Three j-ears in 
the army would 
just suit him; and 
surely his parents 
would not refuse 
now that the de- 
mand was so ur- 
gent. Here-open- 
ed the debate 
with great enthu- 
siasm ; but father 
and mother were 
stili inflexible, 
and again he sub- 
mitted. He did 
this the more will- 
irgly because of 
his growing belief 
that the affair 
would not blow 
over in a few days 
and he would pa- 
tiently bide his 

time to get in. si klegg. 

Si's patriotic emotions, animated b\^ th'^ fie/y ardor of 
youth, bubbled with constantly increasing fury in his 
swelling breast, and at the time the brass buttons of the 




b A TERRIBLE TEMPTATION. 

recruiting officer twinkled in the village he was almost at 
thf point of bursting. In his fervid zeal he 

" Scorned the lowing cattle ; 
He burned to wear a uniform, 
Hear drums and see a battle." 

Such w^as Si's mental condition W'hen he drove into 
town that day. It became still more inflamed when 
he read one of the recruiting officer's big posters; and 
his passionate eagerness almost overcame him v/hen 
two or three of his friends sauntered up in full uniform. 
He felt that he could not endure the pressure much 
longer. 

"Hello, Si," said one of the militar}^ fledgelings, "what 
d'ye stan' there gawpin' at that han'bill ler? Why don't 
ye come down to the 'cruitin' office an' 'list, 'long with the 
rest o' the boys?" 

Si had never in his life wanted half so badly to do any- 
thing as he did to walk straight to where the flag was 
flying and the fife and drum playing, sign his name to the 
roll of Company Q, and get inside of a blouse and sky-blue 
trousers. He had more than half a mind to carry ouc his 
ardent impulse at once and take the chances on his action 
being ratified by the home authorities. 

"I want ter jine yer comp'ny mighty bad but — " 

Si had not the heart to finish the sentence. His thoughts 
might have been easily read in his eyes as he gazed long- 
ingly at the bright brass buttons on the clothes of his 
friends and the nodding plumes that decorated their 
enormous hats. 

'"Fore I'd be tied to my mammy's apurn string!" was 
the derisive reply. "Why don't ye be a man! All the 
boys is goin', an' 3^6 don't want ter stay behind fer the 
gals to p'int their fingers at and say ye w^as 'fraid ter 
go. Come 'long, an' never mind yer dad an' the old 
woman!" 



EARLY EVIDENCE OF "GRIT." 7 

■'Look a-liere, Bill," and Si began to show symptoms of 
a furious eruption, "you 'n' me has alius bin good friends; 
but if you say 'nother word agin me er my father 'n' 
mother ye won't have ter wait t'll ye git down among the 
seceshers — if ye ever do git thar — to have the biggest kind 
of afight. One er t'other on us '11 git the all-firedest lickin' 
ye ever heern tell of P'r'aps ye'U find out that ef I ain't 
a very big pertater I'm kind o' hard to peel. I ain't no 
cow^ard. I'm goin' ter try 'n' git inter this comp'ny. I 
don't b'lieve in braggin', but ef I do go with ye, ye'll never 
git court-martialed fer hangin' back er runnin' the wrong 
way ef ye jest keep right up 'longside o' Si Klegg!" 

It may be fairly said that the circumstances justified the 
w^armth and earnestness of Si's manner. Involuntarily 
his fat fists clenched, and he assumed an attitude of hos- 
tility that alarmed his comrade. The latter prudently 
retired out of range. 

"Ye don't need ter git spunky 'bout it. Si," he said from 
a safe distance. "Ye know I didn't mean nothin'. Ye'd 
make a bully soljer, an' the boys 'd like fust rate to have 
ye 'long. Comp'ny Q 's goin' ter have a soft thing, 'cause 
the ofiicer says he's got it all fixed. She's a-fillin' up purty 
fast, an' we're goin' ter leave in a few days, so ye'll have 
ter hustle 'round !" 

"I don't know ner care nothin' 'bout the easy time ye 
say ye're goin ' ter have. Ef I knowed Comp'n}^ wouldn't 
never do nothin' but sta^^ back in the rear I'd jine some 
other rijiment. Ef I'm goin' ter be a soljer I want ter he 
one 'n' do suthin' more'n strut 'round in a uniform. But 
I reckon as how Comp'ny Q '11 have ter take its chances 
'long with the rest." 

Si wanted to go down to the headquarters but he 
scarcely dared trust himself to do so. He feared that the 
temptation to "jine" would be stronger than his power 
of resistance. Just at that critical moment the fife and 



8 SI IS SWEPT OFF HIS FEET, 

drum struck up a lively air and that settled it. His friends 
were already on the way to the recruiting office. 

"Hold up," shouted Si, "I'm goin' that way," and he 
started after them at a brisk pace. 

"I thought ye'd come to it," said one of them, as they 
stopped for him to join them. 

"I sha'n't 'list to-day," rephed Si, "I jest thought I'd 
look in thar 'n' see what's goin' on." 

The truth is that, notwithstanding this positive declara- 
tion, he "felt it in his bones " that he would go home that 
afternoon wearing blue clothes. He was badly broken 
up when he thought of the consternation that he was 
sure his appearance at the old farm in the garb of a 
soldier \vould prodtice. He did not want to enlist 
without parental consent, as he had promised, and he 
kept trying to make himself believe that he was not 
going to. His conscience told him that he ought to 
turn around and go to his wagon and drive straight 
home, but the magnet that was drawing him along 
in spite of himself was irresistible He couldn't help 
it ; he had to go. His feet caught the step of the drum- 
taps and he marched to what he felt would be his fate, 
borne along by a tide of emotions as resistless as the 
flood of a raging river. 

The discordant sound of the squeak}^ fife and rattling 
drum was the sweetest music that had ever greeted the 
ears of Si Klegg. He mingled in the crowd of old and 
young that stood around the musicians talking about 
the war — the one subject that was first upon every 
tongue. They all knew Si, and again and again he was 
asked if he \vas going to enlist. He could not say no and 
lie dared not say yes, although he felt away down in his 
heart that there ^vere nineteen chances out of twenty that 
within the next thirty minutes there would be another 
*'K" added to the roll of Company Q, and he would be 
trying on his regimentals. 



AND CARRIED OVER THE DAM. 



9 



The only tiling tliat prevented Si from rushing at once 
into the presence of the recruiting officer was the ever 
haunting- thousfht of father and mother. He tried 
to aro^ue himself into the belief that his dutv to his 
country was first, and that in responding to her call in 
the time of her extremity he was doing no violence to the 
fifth commandment. Aided by the persuasive influences 
that surrounded him, he so far succeeded in quieting his 




STIMULATING VILLAGE PATRIOTISM. 



conscience that when one of his companions, who was in 
a similar state of mind, said to him, "I'll 'list if you will," 
Si replied, "Come on," and started at once up the stairs. 
The flood had carried him completely over the dam. 

A moment later Si stood, with his hat under his arm, in 
the presence of the recruiting officer. Dazzled by the 
splendor of his appearance. Si shrank bac : abashed for a 
moment. The officer \vas busily engaged in superintend- 



10 HE SIGNS THE ROLL OF COMPANY Q. 

ing the efforts of two or three recruits to fit themselves out 
of an assortment of army clothing that lay scattered 
about the room. Si had a chance to recover and brace 
himself for the trying ordeal. 

"Ah, my man," said the lieutenant, extending his hand 
to Si, "you've come to join my company, haven't you? 
You do not need to answer, for I know it by your looks. 
You'll make a splendid soldier, too— just the sort of brave 
fellows we want. Walk right up to the table and sign 
your name. We're going to have the finest companjr that 
ever left the state." 

"Sa}^, mister, I jest wants ter ax ye ef a feller kin git out 
agin ef he has ter arter he's jined." 

At the last moment a sense of his filial obligations 
prompted Si to provide, if possible, for keeping open a line 
of retreat. Fearful lest his motive might be misconstrued, 
however, he hastily added : 

"'Tain't 'cause I wants ter back out, fer I don't; but 
ye see I'm 'feard pap '11 kick. He made me promise I 
wouldn't 'list 'less he was willin', 'n' I know he aint." 

"Oh, that '11 be all right, " said the officer. "We'll fetch 
the old man around easy enough. You put your name 
right down and get your uniform on. When he sees how" 
fine you look he'll pat you on the head and tell you 
to go right along like a man and fight for your bleeding 
country." 

"Gimme the pen 'n' I'll chance it." 

Si sat down to the table and with much effort succeeded 
in producing his autograph on the roll of Company Q. His 
heart thumped violently as he looked at his name and began 
to realize that he was going to be a soldier. It is true that 
the chickens he w^as counting were not yet fully hatched, 
for he could not rid himself of the vague fear that there 
would be trouMe at the farm-house. But he persuaded 
himself that ii would end as he so fervently desired ; and 



"prior soundness." H 

when he arose he felt that he was taller by a foot than 
when he entered the room. 

"Now, Mr. Klegg," said the lieutenant, "just step into 
that room and let the doctor examine you." 

"What's that fer?" asked Si. 

" To see if you are sound and able to discharge the duties 
of a soldier." 

"The doctor '11 onl}' be wastin' his time 'zaminin' me," 
replied Si. "I'm sound 's a hicker'-nut." 

"No doubt of it; but the army regulations require it, 
and we have to ohej them, you know." 

Si had a foggy idea that obedience was one of the car- 
dinal virtues of a good soldier, and ^vithout further objec- 
tion he passed into the apartment, w^here the village 
dodtor, duly invested with the proper authority, was 
inspecfling the physical condition and "prior soundness" 
of those who were about to enter the military service. 

"Now, young man, strip yourself," said the do6lor, in a 
business-like wa^', when Si's turn came. 

It seemed to Si that there was a good deal of foolishness 
about such a performance. The dodtor evidently shared 
this opinion as he looked upon the robust form and well- 
turned limbs of the farmer-boy. A single glance told his- 
experienced e^^e that Si would fill the bill. He passed his 
hands over the limbs of the recruit, looked at his feet, 
drummed on his chest and ribs, and then pressed his ear 
against his breast. 

" Your heart beats a little hard and rapidly," said the 
do6lor, "but I guess it's only because you're a bit excited. 
I think you'll do, my lad, and I'm greatly mistaken if you 
do not make a good, brave soldier. Just one thingmore, let 
me see your teeth." 

Si thought it w^as very much as if he w^as a colt and 
somebody wanted to buy him. But he was pleased with 
the doctor's verdict, and only said with a laugh : 

"I don't see what teeth 's got ter do 'th bein' a solier '" 



12 



SI PUTS ON A UNIFORM. 



"You will be wiser after a time, my young friend," said 
the do(5lor with a 'smile. "You will find good teeth very 
useful in biting cartridges and chewing hardtack." 

"What's hardtack?" said Si, his face not less than his 
words betokening his curiosity. 

"Oh, that's what the soldiers call the bread they get in 
the army. But you hadn't better ask any more questions; 
you'll know all about it in a little while." 

"Nice boy !" the dodlor said to the lieutenant. "A little 
too much flesh just now, but a few weeks of active cam- 
paigning will bring him down to good marching weight. 
I'd like to be colonel of a regiment of such fellows." 

"You can put these on if 3'ou 
like, Mr. Klegg," said the offi- 
cer, handing him a pair of pants 
and a blouse. "I guess they 
are about j^our size." 

No five-year-old boy was ever 
prouder when he laid aside his 
pinafore and donned his first 
pair of breeches than was Si 
w^hen he arrayed himself in the 
habiliments of a soldier. It 
mattered little that the trou- 
sers were several inches too 
long, and the blouse so small 
that it embraced him like a 
corset. As his eyes feasted upon 
the blue garments and the bur- 
nished brass buttons, his fears 
all gave way before the con- 
fident belief that his appearance 
would sweep aside all the objections of his father and 
mother and sister Maria and pretty Annabel, the neigh- 
bor's daughter. 




AN AVERAGE ARMY " FIT. 



CHAPTER II. 

The Commotion at the Farm-House, Caused by Si's Appearance in 
Uniform— The Conflict Between Mars and Venus. 

WHEN Si Klegg left the recruiting office and tripped 
gayly down the stairs with his farm clothes in a 
bundle under his arm, he was greeted with loud cheers by 
the crowd on the sidewalk. He was a favorite in the vil- 
lage, where he had been known from a child. The people 
thronged about him and took him by the hand, all uniting 
in the cordially expressed hope that he would "come out 
£ill right." No one had any fear that he would make other 
thpn an honorable record. 

Ey this time the day w^as well spent, and Si began to 
think about getting home. A cloud of seriousness crept 
over his face as he wondered what his "folks " would say 
and do. His first impulse was to go into somebody's bam 
rnd change his clothes, to relieve the surprise of its sud- 
denness. He thought it might be better to go home in his 
accustomed garments and then, by clever diplomacy, let 
the cat out of the bag little by little. The effect would be 
less startling than if she jumped out all at once. Then came 
the thought that this would be cowardly, and he at once re- 
solved to go right ahead and face the music like a man. 
He believed he was not afraid to meet rebels with guns in 
their hands, and surely he must not quail before his father 
and mother and sister Maria. 

" I'll lay the gad on the old mare, too ! " he said to him- 
self, half aloud. "I'm in fer it, 'n' the sooner the thing's 



14 MEETING THE RUGGED ISSUE. 

over with the better. I ain't goin' ter go sneakin' 'n' 
beatin ' 'round the bush, nuther ! " 

Si was soon on his way. His activity in the use of the 
"gad" produced a degree of speed that the mare, who was 
in the sear and yellow leaf of her existence, only attained 
on extraordinary occasions. She laid back her ears and 
forged ahead, as if conscious that something of unusual 
importance was in the ^nd. 

It was only a couple of miles from the village totheKlegg 
farm, and the ride took but twenty minutes. As Si neared 
the house he drew rein that he might, if possible, calm his 
agitation. His heart beat fast at the thought of meeting 
his mother — and then of bidding her good-bye to march 
away to the w^ar. He had not realized before how hard 
this would be. 

Looking away he saw his father slowly coming from his 
toil in a distant field. The story of the Prodigal Son 
came up before him. While he could not admit the justice 
of comparing himself to the v\,'ayward wanderer, yet at 
that moment he would have given the world, had he 
possessed it, to be assured that his father would receive 
him as the father in the parable received the son who " was 
lost and is found." Si had not intended to beundutiful, or 
to do anything wrong. 

Turning his eyes and looking through the soft, shadowy 
twilight that was already falling, he saw his sister coming 
slowly up the lane with the cows. Again his heart 
throbbed wildly. He had not thought what it would be 
to leave her whose loving companionship had been a part 
of his daily existence. How her heart would ache \vhen 
he should be far away amidst scenes of hardship, suffering 
and death. 

Such a moment had never come to Si as that when he 
alighted from the wagon, took his parcels in his arms, and 
walked toward the house. With a mighty effort to con- 
trol his feelings he opened the door and entered. He passed 



A mother's struggle, 15 

directly to the kitchen, where he knew he would find 
his mother engaged in the preparation of the evening 
meal. 

"Mother, "he said — and he knew that his voice was trem- 
ulous, hard as he tried to keep it steady — "I've brought you 
the things you wanted from the store." 

She was busy at her work, with her face from him. For 
a moment she did not look at him, only remarking, with 
a shade of anxiety in her gentle tones : 

"You've been gone a long time, Josiah. I've looked for 
you these two hours. What's goin' on in the village ? Any 
news from the war?" 

"Mother!" 

None but a mother can know \vhat was in that word 
as it fell from the lips of Si. Her maternal instinct told 
her, quick as the lightning's flash, that she must make 
the sacrifice that thousands of mothers had made before 
her. The knife dropped from her trembling hand. For 
an instant she stood, with face still averted, as if to 
gather strength for the trial which she had long felt 
she must face sooner or later. Day and night she had 
prayed that the cup mJght pass from her. It had come, 
and in that moment she resolved, with the spirit of 
the mothers of Sparta, to meet it Vvdth a patriot's 
devotion. 

Then she turned and cast a look of unutterable tender • 
ness upon her boy, already a soldier. He sj)rang toward 
her and she folded him in her arms. Tears trickled from 
the eyes of both. Their hearts were too full for words. 
As her soft kisses fell like a benediction on brow and 
cheek, Si felt that his mother was tenfold dearer than 
ever before. 

"My son," she said, "I feel that it is right. You cannot 
know how hard it is for me to say that. But it is duty 
that calls, and I'm proud of ye for bein' so brave and 
manly. I knew ye'd be goin' one o' these days, an' I'd 



16 



THE BATTLE HALF WON. 



kinder got my mind made up to it; but it aint an 
easy thing for a mother to send her only boy off to 
war." 

"But — father — " said Si, inquiringly. 

"Father won't be hard on ye, Si," she replied. "We've 
talked it over many an hour v^hen ye've been asleep, an' 

he feels a good deal 
— ^'-^ like I do. I guess 
y/y^j he'd a leetle rather 
L^i- I ,.<|i %'/ll ^ 3'ou'd spoke to him 

'bout it 'fore ye' list- 
ed, but if I don't 
mistake he'll give ye 
his blessin' an' tell 
ye to go an' do yer 
duty like a hero, just 
as I know ye will." 
The outer door 
^^^ opened and a famil- 
iar step was heard 
in the adjoining 
room. 

"Stay here a mo- 
ment. Si," said his 
mother, as she has- 
tily withdrew her 
arms from him and 
brushed away her 
tears. " Let me say 
a word to father 
first." 

Si still dreaded to meet his fathei, although this feeling 
had yielded in some measure before the loving words of his 
mother. His heart filled with gratitude to her for the deli- 
cate tadt which prompted her to shield him from a possible 
harsh word. 




SI AND HIS MOTHER. 



THE VICTORY COMPLETE. 17 

"Thank ye, mother!" he faltered. 

''Father," she said, as she went in to meet her husband. 
She was trying to control herself, but her trembling lip 
and misty eyes betrayed the emotions she could not 
conceal. 

"Why, mother," he interrupted, "what's the matter? 
Anything gone Avrong to-day ? Hasn't Si got back from 
town?" 

"Yes, Si's here — but— he's got a new suit o' clothes on — 
and they're blue ! Now, father, I told him you wouldn't 
be hard on him, an' I know ye won't. He's my boy as 
much as yours, an' if I can bear it you can." 

For a moment he did not speak; a shade passed over 
his face, but it gradually melted away before the pleading 
gaze of the wife and mother. Then he said : 

"You know we've been expectin' it, mother, for a good 
while. Si haint said much 'bout it lately, but it was plain 
to see that he was just achin' to go all the time. If we had 
half a dozen other boys it wouldn't be any easier to let 
him go ; but we could get along better without him than 
we can bein' as he's the only one. If he'd waited till I'd 
ha' give m\' consent I reck'n he wouldn't ha' gone at all, 
for I don't b'lieve I could ha' made up my mind to say he 
might jine the army. But it locks 's though they'd need 
all the men they can git 'fore they bring them seceshers to 
their senses, an' I persumewe'd ought terbe willin'to let Si 
go an' help 'em. Lookin' at it on all sides I guess it was best 
for him to 'list in the wa}^ he did, 'cause as I was savin', I 
couldn't ha' screwed myself up to the point o' tellin'him he 
might." 

A glad smile, though it was not without a tinge of sad- 
ness, lighted up the countenance of Si's mother. With the 
sacrificing heroism that so grandly characterized the 
women of that time, she had fully accepted the truth that 
she must give up her boy. She knew that his heart, like 
her own, was full almost to bursting, and she rejoiced to 



18 A father's blessing. 

know that he would not have to bear the added burden of 
a father's displeasure. 

"Josiah, come here! " 

Si had stood trembling where his mother left him, during 
the interview between his parents. He could not hear the 
words, but the tones of his father's voice were not those 
of an angry man, and he felt that if he had done wrong he 
would be forgiven. When his father called him his hand 
was already upon the latch. Quickly opening the door he 
advanced to meet the outstretched arms of his father. 
Tears that w^ere not unmanly dimmed the eyes and wetted 
the brown cheeks of the old farmer as he folded his boy to 
his breast. 

"I aint goin' to say a ^vord agin it. Si," he said, after a 
long embrace. "Other folks has to let their boys go, an' I 
musn't think I'm better 'n anybody else. But it makes me 
feel like a baby to think of ye goin' down 'mong the soljers 
an' likely 's not we shan't never " 

"Don't, father," said his wife, gently, "v^e musn't talk 
of that now. If I didn't believe God 'd let Si come back to 
us, I couldn't let him go ; that 'd be askin' too much." 

"Well, well, dear, I couldn't help thinkin' what a dan- 
gerous place it is down there, an' how many other people's 
boys wont never see home agin. There's jest one thing I 
want to say to ye. Si. Ye know somethin' 'bout how dear 
ye are to me — I don't need to tell ye that — but I'd a hun- 
derd times rather ye'd get killed when ye was standin' 
up to your duty like a brave soljer, an^ be buried with 
nothin' but a blanket 'round ye, than to hear anybody 
say that my boy was a coward. But I aint afeard that 
we'll ever be 'shamed of ye. Si. Mother, hadn't we better 
have supper?" 

"Why, bless me, if I didn't forgit all 'bout supper!" ex- 
claimed the good woman, as she started for the kitchen, 
"but Si comin' in so sudden with them soljer clothes on, 



THE YOUNG SOLDIER AND HIS SISTER. 19 

jest upset me an' drlv all tliouglits o' cookin' clean out o' 
m}^ head." 

When she reached the culinary department she found 
things in a disastrous plight. The potatoes in the oven 
were baked to a crisp, the pork in the spider had fried to 
cinders, and the teakettle was boiling over with great fury, 
emittinsf a volume of steam that filled the room. Mrs. 
Klegg had to begin all over again. 

It was a matter of small concern to Si whether he had 
any supper at all or not. A great load had been lifted 
from his heart. At last his ambition was to be reaHzed. 
In a few days he would march away to the field of glory, 
and he would go with his mother's prayers and his father's 
blessing. It was the happiest moment he had ever known. 
His fervent imagination saw only the lights of an untried 
life. None of its deep shadows darkened the picture that 
his fancy painted. 

"Father," he said, "I'll go out 'n' tell Marier the news 
'n' then I'll help ye do the chores." 

"Sister Marier," a rosy lass, two years older than Si, 
was coming from the barnyard wnth a pail of milk in 
either hand. As she bent beneath the load her eyes were 
upon the ground, and she did not observe the approach of 
Si through the gathering dusk until he said, in a cheerful 
tone: 

"Let me carry 'em fer ye, Marier." 

"That you. Si?" she said, as she raised her eyes. 

In an instant the pails dropped from her grasp and the 
milky flood inundated the ground at their feet. Raising her 
hands in surprise, she exclaimed : 

"For the land's sake. Si, what are ye doin' with them 
clothes on? Borrered 'em from one o' the boys, didn't ye, 
to see how ye'd look in 'em?" 

" These clothes is mine. I'm a soljer now !" 

"What, you?" Then as the truth burst upon her she 
added, in a tone that touched his heart, "Oh, Si!" 



20 



AFFECTION S SORE TRIAL. 



Circling her arms about his neck, her feelings found vent in 
a flood of tears. 

Si felt that he was having a rather sloppy time of it, 
and he was really glad that the family was no larger, and 
that he had now got around. Yet his experience during 
the half hour since he reached home had been to him in the 
nature of a revelation. There had been nothinsr in the 
every-day farm life of the family to test the strength of the 

cord that bound 
them together. Si 
supposed, as a 
inatter of course, 
that his father and 
!(| mother and sister 
loved him, as it 
was their duty to 
do. He had al- 




ways been con- 
scious of arecipro' 
city of feeling to- 
ward them. Now 
he knew, as nevei 
before,ho w strong 
are the ties of af- 
fection, and how 
heavily falls the 
blow that severs 
them. 

"There, don't cry any more, sister," he said, kissing her 
tenderly. "You know I couldn't help doin' it. But I 
made ye spill all the milk 'n' I'll go down 'n' pump some 
fer supper. S'pose I'll have to git 'long without milk in the 
army, 'n' I'd better fill up while I've got a chance." 

There were some of the cows whose lacteal foun- 
tains had not been drawn upon, so that the catas- 
trophe that had befallen Maria promised to result 



CALAMITOUS EFFECT OF THE NEWS UPON 
"sister MARIER." 



THE CUPBOARD UNLOCKED. 21 

no more seriously than to make the next "churning" a 
trifle short. 

"Well, old Brindle, don't ye wish you was me?" ex- 
claimed Si, in the exuberance of his spirits. " H'ist, there, 
why don't ye! Now, so, Bossy, so!" and he was soon 
milking away with all his might, singing to himself: 

"We are coming, Father Abraham, three hundred thousand more." 

"That's so," he soliloquized. " 'n' I'm one o' them bully 
three hunderd thousan'. Yes, Father Abraham, Si Klegg's 
comin'. Jest have the army wait t'll he gits thar 'n' then 
ye can drive ahead." 

When Si entered the house with brimming pail he 
found supper waiting. Mother and sister greeted him 
with fond looks and gentle words. They had placed upon 
the table every delicacy that the house afforded. Jars and 
cans, such as hitherto had only been brought forth on 
state occasions, were opened and their contents dished out 
\vith a prodigality that under any other circumstances 
would have been amazing. 

A thrifty housewife is moved by an impulse of no ordin- 
ary' magnitude when she scatters her precious jellies and 
preserves and pickles and things in such reckless profu' 
sion. If Si had stopped to think of this he would have 
needed no stronger evidence of the place he held in the 
estimation of at least the female members of the family. 

"Si always did like these little knick-knacks so," his 
mother said to Maria, "an' goodness 4cnows he won't 
have any of 'em down there. Whatsomever 's in this house 
is his 's long 's he's here. I'd jest enj'y seein' him eat up 
the last bit of 'em. If any comp'ny comes they can go 
without." 

Meanwhile, "Father "had come in from his "chores," 
and the four sat down to the evening meal. Thrice each 
day for many a year they — father, mother, sister, brother 
— had gathered around that table, but never before had 



22 SI TELLS HOW IT HAPPENED. 

there been such an all-pervading spirit of gentleness and 
affection. The very air seemed fragrant ^vith the incense 
from those loving hearts. The little spark had kindled 
into a fierce flame the latent fires of love in the breasts of 
that household. 

The sudden rush of feeling had subsided, giving way to a 
calm determination to make the best of the situation. 
Gradually the members of the little group regained a 
measure of their wonted cheerfulness. Si's elastic spirits 
rebounded the instant the pressure upon them was 
relaxed. 

"You haven't told us yet how you came to 'list," said 
his mother, as she heaped again with preserves a dish that 
he had already emptied. 

This started Si's tongue, and he rattled off the story of 
the day's adventures. 

"I'll tell ye how 'twas," he said. "I druv straightwise 
to the store and done all the arrands ye Avanted me to. 
Then I thought I'd look 'round a bit 'fore I started hum. 
I heerd right awa}^ thar was a 'cruitin' ossifer 'n town. I 
tell ye he's a daisy, too ; must be a big gin'ral er suthin' 
like that. I seen lots o' the boys that had 'listed walkin' 
'round with their uniforms on. Some on 'em told me I'd 
better jine if I didn't want ter be grafted, as they was 
goin' ter begin graftin' purty soon. There was a fife 'n' 
drum a-playin' at the 'cruitin' office, 'n' when I heerd 'em I 
Jest bad to go down. There was a crowd there, and every- 
body was a-cheerin' 'n' shoutin' 'n' the flag was a-flyin'. I 
kep' sayin' to myself I w^ouldn't jine till I'd been hum 'n' 
axed ye agin ; but while I was stan'in' thar Tommy Smith 
says to me, says he, 'Si, I'll dar' ye to 'list; ef you will I 
will.' I says, 'Tom, who's afeard?' — jest that w^ay. 
' 'Tain't me,' saj^s I, ' 'n' if you ain't nuther w^alk up to the 
scratch.' He didn't back out, ner I didn't, 'n' in 'bout ten 
minutes we both b'longed to Comp'ny Q. She's goin' ter 
be the boss comp'ny, too. That's the way it happened, 'n' I 



AN ALARMING SUGGESTION'. 23 

don't see how a bey like me could ha' done any different. 
Jest one spoonful more o' that currant jell', mother, 
please." 

"The fact is, Si," said the head of the family, "I s'pose 
I could get ye out by goin' to law, 'cause ye're a long 
ways under age an' I didn't give my consent fer ye to 
list." 

"But ye won't do that, will ye, father?" said Si quickly, 
with a look of alarm. 

"No, Si. Ye've done it an' I aint goin' to find no fault. 
r don't quite see how I'm goin' to git 'long without ye on 
(:he farm." 

"I'll send home to ye all the mone\^ I 'arn," said Si, " 'n' 
ye can hire a man to take my place." 

"Uncle Sam '11 make je work purty cheap, Si. Thirteen 
dollars a month aint very much, 'n' I reckon what ye'U 
have left arter usin' what ye need won't 'mount to a great 
deal. The men 'round here 's all goin' to the war. Farm 
hands is gittin' sktu'ce an' \vages is high an' goin' higher." 

"But ye never got such big prices afore fer 3-er ^vheat 'n' 
corn 'n' pork," observed Si, to whom it seemed that, in a 
financial point of vievk% the case was not without its com= 
pensating features. 

"Mother an' me can help ye, father," said Maria, who 
had sat quiet and thoughtful, taking little part in the 
conversation. "There isn't anj'bod}' feels wuss 'bout Si's 
goin' 'n I do, but all the same I'm proud of him! An' if 
we work a leetle harder an' fill his place vt^e'll all feel that 
we're doin' somethin' for the country. A vv^oman can't 
shoulder a gun an' march an' fight, but there's a good 
many ways she can help." 

So it \vas all settled that Si should go to the \var. He 
arose from the table happy in heart and in stomach. He 
bustled around for a time, bringing in a bountiful supply 
of water and wood and kindlings, and doing everything 



24 AX EVENING PILGRIMAGE. 

he could think of for his mother and sister. Then he put 
on his hat and started for the door. 

"Where ye goin', Si?" asked his mother. 

"I'll be back after a bit, "he replied, evasively. The light 
of the tallow candle was too faint to reveal the blush that 
mantled his tingling cheeks. 

"Don't be too inquisitive, mother," said Maria, as SI 
made a hasty exit. 

Si bent his steps toward the home where Annabel lived, 
a quarter of a mile away. He walked very fast at first, so 
anxious was he to see the neighbor's pretty daughter and 
tell her all about it. He wondered if she would feel badly 
about his going away. He couldn't help hoping she 
would— just a little. 

Si and Annabel had been playmates from childhood. 
They had grown up together, and Si had come, little by 
little, to feel a sense of proprietorship in her — almost im- 
palpable, and yet to him an existing reality. No other 
boy in the neighborhood had so well-established a right as 
he to take Annabel sleigh-riding in winter and to the circus 
in summer. Up to the time of his enlistment not a word 
had ever passed between them that could make their 
relations any more definite than would naturally result 
from a childish fancy. Among their companions she 
was recognized as Si's "girl" and he as her legitimate 
*'beau." 

As Si paced along that night he was conscious that he 
had that day made a long stride toward manhood. He 
felt that he was a boy no longer, and with this came a 
feeling toward Annabel that he had never experienced 
before. He had heard of people being "in love," but up to 
this time had only a vague idea of what that meant. 
After thinking it over he made up his mind that he was 
in that condition, whatever it was. On no other hypoth- 
esis could he satisfy himself regarding the sensations 
that thrilled him more and more as he drew nearer, step 



PALPITATION OF THE HEART. 25 

by step, to her father's door. In fact, by the time he 
reached the gate it was about an even race between his 
country and Annabel for the first place in his affections. 

Si did not at once rush into the house. The agitation of 
his heart was such as to utterly destroy his courage. lie 
walked some distance past and then turned around and 
walked as far the other \YSiy, striving to quiet the turmoil 
in his breast: but the more he tried the more he couldn't 
do it. The symptoms were those of a malignant case. 

For half an hour he oatrolled the beat in front of the 
house, as if it were the headquarters of a general and 
he the guard. At every turn, ashamed of his timidity, 
he resolved that he would march straight to the door, 
but as often, by the time he reached the gate, his courage 
had all oozed out at the ends of his fingers and toes. 
Then he ^vould keep on, gathering strength again as the 
distance increased, and at length face about and repeat the 
performance. Once the watch-dog came out and barked 
at him until he felt that he would like to kill the animal 
had he not known Annabel's fondness for him. The 
farmer opened the door and looked out to see what it 
was that had provoked such a breach of the peace. Si 
dropped into a fence corner and lay trembling until quiet 
was restored. 

He had more than half a mind to give it up and go 
home, but as soon as he could bring his perturbed thoughts 
to bear upon this proposition he spurned it as unworthy 
of him. What would he ever amount to as a soldier if he 
was afraid to face so harmless a thing as the neighbor's 
daughter ? This view of the case was like an elixir to him. 
His courage came back to stay. He opened the gate, 
walked boldly up to the door, and rapped with no un- 
certain sound. 

"Come in!" 

Si's heart beat like a trip-hammer as he raised the latch 
and entered. 



2b IT BECOMES CONTAGIOUS, 

"Hello, Si, liow d'ye do?" was the farmer's greeting. 

"Good evenin' !" said Si in response, with some shyness 
of manner. His coy salutation was addressed in a general 
way to the family group, although, judging from his eyes, 
it was aimed more particularly at Annabel. She smiled 
and Si thought she blushed — probably she did. There was 
atinge of sadness on her face that for the moment he could 
not understand. She did not express the surprise he had 
supposed she would at seeing him in the uniform of a 
soldier. 

"I was in town this arternoon," said the farmer, "an I 
heerd ye'd jined the company they're raisin'." 

Annabel bent down her head and looked very hard at 
her sewing. So she had already heard of it, thought Si. 
He wondered if the relation of cause and effect existed 
between her knowledge and the sad, quiet manner so 
unusual to her. 

"Them clothes is becomin' to ye, Si," continued Anna- 
bel's father, in his bluff, hearty way, " an' ye'll make a fine 
lookin' soljer. We'll all be sorry to have ye go " 

Si cast a quick glance at Annabel to see if he could read 
in her face the extent to which she would share in the gen- 
eral grief. She did not look up, and he thought he saw 
something that glistened in her e3'e, but he may have been 
mistaken. 

" an' we hope there won't nothin' happen to ye down 

there. Ye must be spry an' dodge the bullets of them 
pesky rebels," 

Annabel got up and went to a cupboard in the corner of 
the room to look for something. She seemed to have a 
good deal of difficulty in finding it. Once Si saw her put 
her kerchief to her eyes. It was no doubt merely accidental 
and had no connection with the subject of conversation. 
After a while she went back to her seat, but she appeared 
Qot to have found what she was looking for. 

Si's stay was brief. He had in his mind some things he 



SPEAKING EYES. 



27 



thought he wanted to sav in Annabel's ear, but no oppor. 
tunity was offered, owing to the perverse blindness of th^ 
"old folks" — so often a source of exasperation to young 
hearts palpitating with the tender passion. It may be 
seriously doubted, however, w^hether Si could have mus- 
tered courage enough to say anything confidential to the 
rosy-cheeked girl if he had had a chance to do so. Be this 




AT THE neighbor's. 

as it may, he was not in his usual loquacious mood for 
general conversation. So the kind-hearted old farmer did 
most of the talking. Si only responding now and then in 
monosjllables. But what his busy eyes had seen, aided by 
an active imagiiiation, had given him a measurably satis- 
factory answei to the question his throbbing heart had 
silently asked. 



28 SI LONGS FOR MARCHING ORDERS. 

When Si arose and bade the familv jzood nio^ht, Annabel 
stepped quickly to the door and followed him outside for a 
single moment. 

"Si," she said softl}^ "I know it's right fer ye to go, but 
— je don't know — how bad — it makes me feel!" 

Putting her arm around his neck she kissed his hot 
cheek. Before he could recover his senses she had fled 
into the house like a frightened faw^n. Si pinched himself 
two or three times to see \vhether it was, he or somebody 
else. Then he walked rapidly home, the happiest boy in 
all Indiana. 



CHAPTER III. 

In Which Si is Provided with a Bountiful Outfit, Makes Satis- 
factory Progress with Annabel, and Starts for the War. 

SI KLEGG was very impatient to get away to the 
front. It was only a week after his enlistment that 
Company left for the regimental rendezvous to become 
a part of the 200th Indiana, but a month had never seemed 
so long to him. Every day he went to town to see how 
the work of recruiting was getting on. He assisted, to the 
utmost of his ability and influence, in filling the ranks by 
persuasive efforts among his comrades. 

Si had now little taste for the plodding work of the 
farm. Possibly he felt that such plebeian toil was- not in 
keeping with the dignity that properly belonged to a 
soldier. Now and then the thought woulu come that he 
ought to lend a willing hand to help his father while he 
could; but he was so thoroughly imbued with the war 



SI TO HAVE A GOOD SEND-OFF. 29 

spirit, and so restive at the delay, that he could give no 
serious consideration to anything else. There ^was little 
to do to put him in inarching order. He had no incum^ 
brances, and could just as well have marched away the 
morning after his name was added to the company roll. 
Indeed, nothing could have pleased him better. 

His feelings were saddened sometimes when he allowed 
himself to picture the parting from parents and sister, and 
thoughts of Annabel made his heart twinge with even 
greater violence. With the philosophy of a stoic, how- 
ever, he persuaded himself that the sundering of these 
ties was but a part of the sacrifice that every soldier 
must make, and to which he had already become rec- 
onciled. On the whole he would be glad rather than 
otherwise vrhen the farewells were over. He did not 
desire frequent repetition of the tearful scene that was 
caused by his return from the village on that eventful 
day. 

Among Si's relatives, irrespective of age or sex, great 
zeal was manifested in fitting him out for his first cam- 
paign. Tliey had heard much about the sufferings of 
the soldiers for lack of home comforts, and it was unani- 
mously voted that Si should want for nothing that could 
minister to his external or internal welfare. If he suffered 
J.t should not be their fault. His female friends were par- 
ticularly active in the good \vork. In preparing his outfit 
they displayed that marvelous discrimination that charac- 
terized the patriotic women of America in this respect 
during the early part of the war, before they had learned 
better. Feminine ingenuity exhausted itself in conjuring 
up all sorts of things, describable and indescribable, that 
could make life a burden to a recruit in active service. 
When they could not think of any thing more to make, they 
ransacked the stores for something to buy and load him 
down. 
Si's mother and sister devoted to this labor of love all 



so 



A BOUNTIFUL PROVISION. 



their time and energies not employed in ministering to hi? 
appetite. Not an hour passed but they thought of some- 
thing else that he would need for his health and comfort, 
and there was no rest till it was provided. By the tim<; 
the contributions of friends and neighbors had been sen( 
in there was a large wheelbarrow-load, without taking 
into account the stock he would receive from the gov- 
ernment. 
"There, Si," said his good mother, with evident satisfac 

tion, as she showed 
him the result of th<; 
labor of loving hearts 
and hands, "we've got 
this clothes-basket 
purty nigh full. 1 
reckon them things '11 
fix ye out tollable well. 
If ye're keerful an' 
don't lose an\^ of 'em 
ye can keep yerself 
kind o' comfortable 
like." 

"That'll be jest 

gorjus," replied Si. 

" Marchin' 'n' cam pin' 

A MODEL OUTFIT. Wv:)n't bc nothin' but 

fun 's long 's a feller 's got everythin' he wants. I 'low 

the boys wouldn't have sich hard times if they all had 

mothers 'n' sisters like I've got." 

"I've heerd, Si, that they only give the soljers one 
blanket apiece. I s'pose ye'll have to sleep on the ground 
a good deal o' the time, an' ye'll want plenty o' kivers ; so 
I've got ye an extry blanket an' this heavy quilt— ye must 
take good care o' that 'cause it's one o' my best ones, an', 
if yecan, I'd like ye to fetch it back in good shape when tbf 
war 's over. I guess they'll keep ye warm. I'd feel awful 




TAKING AN INVENTORY. 33 

to be all the time 'fraid \'e was ketchin' cold. I'll give ye 
one o' my best pillers if ye want, to lay yer head on. I've 
made ye a pair o' nice undershirts. Ye'll want 'em after a 
while an' ye'd better take 'em 'long now, 'cause I don't 
s'pose I'll git a chance to send 'em to ye. Here's three pair 
o' good \voolen socks. I don't reckon them they has in 
the army is any great shakes. Yer Aunt Samanthy knit 
'em fer ye. Marier's made ye a purty needle case full o' 
needles an' buttons an' thread an'apa'r o' scissors. Them 
things '11 come mighty handy. Ye won't have no mother 
to mend up yer clothes an' sew on yer buttons an' darn 
yer stockin's. Here's a harnsom' portfolio yer sister 
bought fer ye. It's got lots o' paper an' envelopes an' 
pens an' pencils an' ink an' postage stamps. I know ye 
ain't a great hand to be writin' letters, but ye mus'n't 
forgit that we'll want ter hear from ye reel often. Yei 
father bought ye a pa'r o' boots. They won't weigh 
more'n five or six pounds, an' ye can carry 'em 'long to 
wear when yer guv'ment shoes gives out. They say that 
the army shoes drops all to pieces in a few davs. I 'xpect 
the contractors gits rich out of 'em. 

"We want ye to keep yerself lookin' nice an' slick, an' 
yer Cousin Betsey got ye a toilet-case, with a comb an' 
brush an' lookin'-glass an' a bottle o' ha'r ile. Here's half 
a dozen cakes o' sweet-smellin' soap to keep yer ban's an' 
face clean, an' a couple o' towels. I don't s'pose Uncle 
Sam '11 give ye any. An' I've put in a clothes-brush ; ye'll 
have plenty o' use for that. Ye mustn't forgit to black up 
yer shoes every mornin'. I've got ye a good new brush 
an' a couple o' boxes o' blackin'. Here's a big pin-cushion 
full o' pins from Aunt Polly. A pin 's a purty small thing, 
but sometimes when ye want one ye want it mighty bad. 
These ought to last ye a year or two, if yeha^e ter stay that 
long, which goodness kno\vs I hope ye won't. I've fixed 
up a box o' medicine for ye. I know 3'e don't very often 
git sick, but then ye might git took sudden, an' them army 



32 ENOUGH FOR A FAIR START. 

doctors won't know what ye want to bring ye 'round 
half 's well 's yer mammy does. Here's a bottle o' Number 
Six, an' 'nother o' rewbarb, an' a box o' headache pills, 
an' a bunch o' penn3^r'3^al. Ye know pennyr'yal tea 's 
powerful good when one gits under the weather. 

"The parson didn't forgit ye, nuther. He sent over a 
Bible fer 3^e to read an' a hymn-book fer ye to sing out of 
when ye feels like singin'. Ye'd better take 'long the Bible 
ye got last Christmas, too, 'cause suthin might happen to 
one on 'em, and I'd feel sorry to think ye hadn't none. 
Like enough a good many o' the soljers won't have Bibles 
an' they'll all want to be borryin' yours. I don't think 
ye'll care ter tote a very big library, but I jest wanted ter 
give ye my 'Pilgrim's Progress.' 'Tain't very heavy, an* 
ye'll be a sort of a pilgrim yerself. P'r'aps ye'll have 
purty nigh 's hard a time, 's the man John Bunyan writ 
'bout. Here's somethin' I know ye'll like. Si. We've all 
had our fortygraphs took, an' Marier got ye this album in 
town yisterday. The picturs is all in there and there's 
room fer a few more. 

"Yer Cousin Jim bought ye a couple o' boxes o' paper 
collars, and Alarier made some neckties that'll go well 
with 'em. Here's a roll o' bandages an' a bundle o' lint. 
I hope and pray, Si, ye won't have any use fer 'em yerself, 
but I reck'n they're desperate car'less with all their differ- 
ent kinds o'shootin' things, an' it'll be a good idee to have 
'em if ye do git hurt. Then I couldn't think o' yer goin' 
'thout takin' 'long a few cans o' peaches, an' jell', an' 
some o' that cramberry jam ye're so fond of. An' I've put 
ye up four or five pounds o' nice butter. I guess ye can 
carry it. I s'pose I'll think o' lots more things afore ye go, 
but we've got 'nough here fer a fair start." 

Si expressed in the warmest terms his gratitude for his 
mother's thoughtfulness in providing so bountifully for 
him. Neither of them had the faintest conception of the 
actxial capaci+v of a soldier's knapsack; nor did they 



PREPARING FOR SLAUGHTER. 



33 



imagine that he would soon see the time when every pound 
he carried would seem to weigh a ton. 

Si's Sunday school teacher gave him a barbarous bowie* 
knife with a blade a foot long. It was provided with a 
leather sheath and a belt, so that he could wear it around 
his body. The presentation was made at a Sunday school 
picnic, which took place just before Company got march- 
ino- orders . The teacher .<^r'■^°?'>C'^l/ Hi/ 1 ¥;?•- 



delivered an impressive 
speech as he handed Si 
the hideous weapon. 
The women and chil- 
dren shuddered as they 
looked upon the hor- 
rible thing, and were 
deeply affected at the 
thought of Si roaming 
around through the 
south like a murder- 
ous brigand, plunging 
the reeking steel into 
the bow^els of everj^- 
body he met. 

The young soldier 
was greatly pleased 
wnth so practical and 
useful a gift. He assured his teacher that he would never 
bring dishonor upon the shining blade, and that he would 
make as much havoc with it as possible among the foes of 
his country. 

Some of those good people seemed really to believe that 
whole battalions of rebels would be gathered to their 
fathers, and the south would be filled with widows and 
orphans, through the devastating agenc}^ of that knife, 
wielded by the avenging arm of Si Klegg; in short, that he 
would soon end the war when he had a fair chance to use 




A DELUSION OF THE 



34j Annabel's grief. 

it. He would throw himself upon the enemy and cut and 
hew and slash, covering the field with ghastly heaps of the 
slain. All that the rest of the 200th Indiana would have 
to do would be to follow him with picks and shovels, and 
bury the dead. Such were the notions of war, that pre- 
vailed during the first year or two of the great struggle.* 

And what of the neighbor's daughter ? How did Anna- 
bel pass the week between Si's enlistment and departure? 
The most marked effect upon her of his entering the service 
was a rapid crystallization of her feelings to-ward him. Si 
had not said anything to her about it, nor did there seem to 
be any pressing need that he should do so. When he called 
at her father's house the evening of the day he enlisted, 
she became vividly conscious that she was more to him 
than any other of the neighborhood girls, and equally so 
that she had a reciprocal feeling toward him. No premed- 
itation on either side had contributed to bring about this 
happy state of affairs betw^een them. Like Topsy, it had 
"just growed," and neither of them realized it until it de- 
veloped so rapidl}^ under the rij)ening influence of Si's blue 
uniform. 

Annabel cried herself to sleep that night, and then dreamed 
all sorts of awful things about Si away down in the army. 
In the morning her reddened eyes and sad face betrayed 
her. Her mother was not long in understanding the case. 
She had noted the symptoms, from time to time, and it 
was not difficult to arrive at the cause of her daughter's 



* The -writer deems it not inappropriate to say that on the eve of his 
departure for camp he and several comrades were each presented with 
one of these tremendous implements of destruction. The presentation 
was n\ade by a college professor, in a church, before a tearful and shud- 
dering audience. The general feeling appeared to be, as we buckled on 
those knives, that they would cause a speedy collapse of the Southern 
Confederacy. Candor compels the statement that no blood ever stained 
them save that of vagrant pigs and chickens ; and that their chief func 
tion in putting down the rebellion was to slice bacon for the frying pan 
or the ramrod. 



SHE RECEIVES AX " INVITE." 35 

dejection. She thought well of Si and made no effort to 
disturb the amatory relations that were evidently fast be- 
coming established. True, both were 3^et too young to be 
"engaged, "but there seemed to be no occasion for parental 
interference. 

In the Klegg family it was much the same. Si's mother 
and sister had not been blind to his boyish partiality for 
Annabel. Their keen eyes and instincts read through the 
flimsy mantle of concealment with which Si tried to hide 
his feelings. If they had questioned him on the subject he 
w^ould probably have lied about it, as young peopleusually 
do when they have reached the mellow stage of love's en- 
chantment. The matter was quietly talked over, at odd 
moments, and it was decided that the best thing to do was 
to do nothing and let matters take their own course. 

The situation was, however, somewhat embarrassing to 
both Si and Annabel, in their intercourse with each other, 
and with their respective families. Their natural coyness 
at first placed the seal of silence upon their tongues. What- 
ever the future might have in store for them, their relations 
were as yet too immature to become a theme for conver- 
sation. But the rules which custom has laid down for 
affairs of the tender passion would not apply to such ex- 
traordinary cases as the one in question. Si was going to 
the war, and this soon swept away the barrier. 

"Si," said his sister Maria one day, "I've asked Annie 
over to supper to-night." 

"Annie who?" exclaimed Si, assuming dense ignorance, 
but at the same time growing very red in the face. 

"Annie who ! Wall I declare to goodness if I ever heerd 
the like ! Anybody 'd think ye knowed a thousand Annies 
an' ye couldn't tell which of 'em I'm talking about. Annie 
who! Oh, Sii" And Maria gave him a suggestive nudge, 
as if to quicken his perceptions and assist him to identify 
the particular Annie who had been invited to supper. 

"Wh_7, yes — that is — of course," said Si, while the hot 



36 "bless you, my children!" 

blood mantled liis cheeks, "how sh'd I know what gals 
ye've asked. 'Tain't nothin' to me, nohow !" 

"Now, Jo-si-er Klegg, ye ought ter be 'shamed o' ^^erself, 
an' I b'lieve ye are, too ; I'm sure I'd be if I was you. But 
reely, Si, layin' all jokes aside, Annie 's a nice girl an' we're 
all glad ye think so much of her. Ye needn't try to keep it 
to yerself any longer, 'cause ye can't do it. We know all 
'bout it just the same 's if ye'd told us. We had an idee it 
'd please ye to ask her over and let us all git sort o' 
'quainted like 'fore ye go off to the war. We've got ye 
cornered an' ye may as well give in. Don't ye think it 'U 
be the best way ?" 

Si rather thought, on the whole, that it would. After a 
little more parleying he decided upon an unconditional 
surrender. Then he told his sister how kind it was of her, 
and how glad he -was for what she had done. 

"But ye didn't tell me," he said, "whether she accepted 
yer invite." 

"She was a bit shj^at first, an' she asked me if I thoiighl 
you'd like to have her. I told her I knowed ye would, an' 
then she looked kind o' smiley an' said right away she'd 
come. I s'pose Si," Maria added with a sly twinkle in 
her eye, "you'll see to gittin' her home all right." 

Si did not answer in words, but the look upon his face 
sufficienth^ indicated the alacrity with which he would dis- 
charge this pleasing duty. 

Annabel came, pretty as a peach blossom. She blushed 
a good deal and so did Si, but father and mother and 
sister Maria gave no heed to the bright carnation hues 
that kept coming and going on those two pairs of cheeks. 
They just rattled away and tried to make Annabel feel 
that Si was not the only friend she ha.d in the family. Si 
frequently cast furtive glances across the table at the fair 
guest, though he did not take anj^part in the conversation 
worth mentioning. He scarcely spoke to Annabel during 
the whole time of her stay. He made some earnest speeches 



AX EVEXIXG STROLL. 



with liis e\^es, but reserved his vocal forces for the walk 
home \vitli her. 

Si was glad when she remarked that she guessed it was 
time for her to go. His services as escort were promptly 
offered. She told him coyly that he didn't have to go ; it 
wasn't very dark and she knew the way. She didn't mean 
it at all. She would have cried her eyes out if Si had taken 
her at her word and hung up his hat again. But she 
did not think he would do that, and he didn't. 

It is not a matter 
of public concern 
what passed be- 
tween them during 
that walk— whether 
they talked about 
the weather, the 
crops and the stars, 
or w^h ether thej^ 
maintained the 
same eloquent 
silence that mark- 
ed their manner to- 
ward each other 
at the supper table. 
It inay fairly be 
presumed , however, 
that ihey found 




A SATISFACTORY STATE OF AFFAIRS. 



something to sa\' 
of an interesting nattire, for Si's absence from home was 
protracted to a degree that was out of all proportion to 
the distance between the two houses. 

"Have they moved, Si?" asked Maria wath a smile, as 
her brother at length entered. 

"N-no, I reck'n not," he rephed rather dubioush', turn- 
ing his face to hide his confusion. The fact is, he could not 
have told whether the house of Annabel's father stood 



38 A WELCOME ORDER. 

where it used to or had been moved over Into the next 
township. 

"Seems 's though ye'd been five mile," said Maria,. 
"Better set down 'n' rest ; ye must be tired !" 

Si said he wasn't tired a bit, and he didn't know that 
he had been gone very long. He w^as happy in the well- 
grounded belief that no stay-at-home rival could "cut him 
out "in the good graces of the farmer's fair daughter while 
he was "gone to the war." 

Annabel's nimble fingers were not idle during these days. 
She worked a pair of slippers for Si, which she thought 
would be comfortable for him to put on at night after 
a hard day's march. She stitched his name into the cor- 
ners of half a dozen nice handkerchiefs, and worked a 
fanc}^ bookmark, so that he would not lose the place in 
his Bible. Then she w^ent to the photographer's and sat for 
her picture. This she had enclosed in a pretty locket, with 
a w^isp of her hair, and a red ribbon fastened to it so that 
he could wear it around his neck, if he wanted to, and she 
hoped he did. All these things helped to make Si happy. 
A soldier couldn't help having a gay time of it with such 
an elaborate outfit. 

One day Si returned from town greatly elated. The roll 
of company Q had reached high-water mark. A hundred 
sturdy young men had filled its ranks, and they were 
ordered to be ready to take the train on the followifig day 
for the rendezvous. There were sad hearts that night in 
the farmer's humble home. Only a few hours, now, and 
father, mother and sister must say farewell to their boy — 

"It may be for years and it may be forever." 

Little sleep came to their eyes, and tears moistened the 
pillows. Si's head was filled with romantic visions of the 
new life upon which he was about to enter, but even these 
gave place now and then to thoughts of the separation. 
As he lay there he wondered if Annabel was asleep. He 



SI LEAVES THE OLD HOME. 39 

would have felt comforted in a measure had he knv0^vn 
that through the too swiftly passing hours, she often 
w^iped from her soft cheeks the tears that flowed for sake 
of him. 

Before break of daj^ the family were astir and, with sad 
faces, busily engaged in the final preparations. Si's bag- 
gage had been for days hourl}^ augmented by sundry' articles 
of clothing, and gimcracks of various kinds. When they 
were all packed into a big box there seemed to be every- 
thing that he could need or desire — and a good deal more. 
He never had so much in his life before. His mother put 
in a lot of pies, cookies, etc., that she had baked for him, 
and Annabel brought over a large fruit-cake, which Si 
knew would taste good because she had made it with her 
own hands. 

"Bully for 3^ou, Annie," he exclaimed as she handed him 
the fragrant loaf. His words startled her, for she had 
never heard him speak in that way before. Si hastened to 
explain that it was time for him to begin to talk like a 
soldier and he felt that he ought to practice a little, so that 
he could be getting his hand in. 

Then farmer Klegg hitched the team to the big wagon, 
the box of quartermaster and commissary stores was 
loaded, and all got in. Si hoped Annabel would ride with 
them, but her diffidence overruled his suggestion to this 
effect. She would be there. Everybody for miles around 
was going to see the bo^'s off, and she would ride with her 
owm family. 

As the hour of departure approached, a great crowd 
gathered at the railway station. There were fathers, 
mothers, sisters, sweethearts and friends, to say the part- 
ing word and give the farewell embrace to their loved 
ones. None in that throng whose heart w^as not moved 
as it had never been before. 

The company formed at the headquarters and with fife 
and drum and waving banner, marched down the street. 



40 



TEARS, CHEERS AND ADIEUS. 



fillingthe air- with shouts. At the station the soldiers -were 
permitted to break ranks and a few minutes Avere given for 
hasty adieus. Can words depict the scene — the streaming 
eyes, the clinging clasp of loving arms, the tender words of 
affection and of admonition ? 
"All aboard!" 




OFF TO THE WAR. 



Rudely the sacred ties are sundered. War is only hard 
and cruel, and its demands are inexorable. 

Si's face is wet with the tears of mother and sister, and 
his cheek is warm with their kisses. Tearing himself from 
their enfolding arms he takes for an instant the hand of 
Annabel and looks into her brimming eyes. No word 
passes their quivering lips. Then he dashes away. He is 
going to be a soldier now. 



WHIRLING AWAY. 41 

The great pile of baggage — enough for a brigade twG 
years later — has been put on board, and at the signal the 
train moves off, amidst cheers and shouts and farewell 
waving of handkerchiefs. 

Faster flow the tears of those who watch the receding 
train that is bearing sons and brothers and husbands 
awa\' to scenes of suffering and death. Alany of those 
brave boj's will not come back. Who of them will go 
down in the nerce storm of battle? who will join the end- 
less procession that da\^ by day moves from the hospitals 
to the populous cities of the dead ? 

Ah, how like mountains they were piled — the pangs of 
mothers and sisters and wives at parting with those they 
loved ; and, through the long bitter years that followed, 
the dropping tears and the hearts crushed with grief for 
the unreturning ones, in a million homes forever clouded 
by the dark shadows of war ! 



CHAPTER IV. 

Contains Some Observations on a Soldier's Equipments, akd Sees 
THE Two Hundredth Indiana Off for the Front. 

SI KLEGG soon forgot the sad parting as the train 
swiftly bore him away. Visions of his new life took 
entire possession of his mind and heart, crow^ding out all 
other thoughts. The brightly-colored picture that his 
fancy painted was but the frontispiece to the volume 
whose dark pages were yet sealed to him. 

This feeling v^as universal among the members of Com- 
pany Q. Moved by the excitement of the occasion they 
indulged in the wildest hilarity. They jested and laughed 



42 A TUMULTUOUS TRIP. 

and shouted and sang, manifesting a convubive enthusi- 
asm that promised great things for the future if they could 
only keep up the head of steam that was now lifting the 
safety-valve. With valorous words those lion-hearted 
patriots recounted to one another the prodigious deeds of 
heroism that they would perform as soon as they met the 
enemy — and they all hoped that they \vouldn't have long 
to \vait. 

At all the stopping places crowds cheered the volunteers, 
the bovs responding with tremendous power of lungs. As 
they went whirling along, the wave of a kerchief from a 
farm-house by a rustic lass or matron — particularly the 
former — was always the signal for a tempestuous response. 
The impression seemed to prevail among the people along 
the route that the country \vas safe now that Compan^^ 
Q was on its way to the field, and it was high time for the 
rebels to quit and go home ; they doubtless would as soon 
as they learned that the company had started. So far as 
might have been judged from surface indications, those on 
board the train were even more strongly impressed with 
this belief. 

An hour's ride brought Company Q to the place of rendez- 
vous, where the 200th Indiana regiment was being rapidly 
organized. Most of the companies were alread\' on the 
ground, and the full complement arrived during the day. 
There w^as a great and pressing emergency across the 
border, and the utmost activity prevailed in rushing the 
new levies to the front. The Presid^^nt's call ^or "three 
hundred thousand more" had been piv^.^nptiy and cneer- 
fully met, and the railroads were choked with trains bear- 
ing fresh regiments to the point of danger to reinforce the 
veteran army that was vainly striving -^o check the north- 
ward sweep of the enemy's confident legions. Everv city 
and hamlet was wrought up to the highest pitch of excite 
ment and patriotic fervor. 

Immediately upon alighting from the train the ra^jMbers 



AT THE RENDEZVOUS. • 43 

cf Company learned that orders had been received for the 
regiment to perfect its organization at once and hold itself 
ready to move at a moment's notice. It was understood 
that the 200th would leave that evening. 

Si was glad of it. He was burning with a desire to fight 
the rebels. To his mind everything indicated that the 
commander of the Union army was only awaiting the ar- 
rival of Company Q to fall upon the enemy and smite him 
hip and thigh. * Si was confident that before another day 
had passed he would be charging around on the field of 
battle, climbing over heaps of slaughtered rebels, and s \r- 
rounding the name of Klegg with a halo of immortal 
renown. 

Language cannot describe the excitement that prevailed 
that day among the thousand impetuous recruits who 
were being crystallized into a regiment— for there was not 
a man of them that did not feel just as Si did. Nobody 
thought of anything but hastening the work of prepara- 
tion. Officers in gorgeous uniforms, on horseback and on 
foot, were hustling around with that consciousness of im- 
portance that comes to most men when they first find 
themselves clothed with authority over those otherwise 
their equals, and able to say, in the language of the Cen- 
turion of old: "For I am a man having soldiers under 
me; and I say to this man, Go, and he goeth; and to an- 
other. Come, and he cometh ; and to my servant. Do this, 
and he doeth it"— if he don't he goes to the guard-house or 
is tied up by the thumbs. The inestimable privilege of 
commanding one's fellow-men, and possessing the power 
to compel prompt and unquestioning obedience, is a 
luxury to be found nowhere but in the army. 

Everybody was at high pressure, and displayed an 
energy befitting the crisis. The wildest rumors concerning 
the movements of the rebel army and the desperate state 
of affairs at the front, went from lip to lip and found plenty 
of behevers. The more absurd and preposterous they were 



4-4 . COMPANY Q IS ORGANIZED. 

the more ready credence \vas given to them. In this way 
fresh fuel was constantly added to the fires that raged 
with quenchless fury in the breasts of those men — they 
were far from being soldiers yet. The climax was reached 
when somebody started the rumor that the rebels had set 
fire to the Ohio river and burned it ; that they were march- 
ing over dry-shod, in swarms as countless as the locusts 
of Egypt or the grasshoppers of Kansas, and were sweep- 
ing up through Indiana at the i*-ite of twenty miles an hour. 
In calmer moments the incongruities of this intelligence 
might have been detected, but in the seething excitement 
they were not thought of, and the startling news was re- 
ceived as gospel truth. Every one who repeated it added 
thousands to the invading host and miles to the hourly 
rate at \vhich it Avas approaching. Then the men began 
to inquire impatiently about their guns, but were informed 
that these would not be furnished until they reached the 
army. There v^as a good deal of grumbling at this, for the 
first thing that a recruit always wanted was to get hold 
of something to shoot with. The prospect that in their 
defenceless condition they would be immediately attacked 
by the enemy had a highly inflammatory effect. 

Company Q went through the form of "electing" its 
officers, though it w^as already understood who they 
would be, and their commissions had been duly issued by 
the Governor. It was a harmless fiction, to make the 
members of the company think they had something to say 
in the matter. Then the boys listened very attentively 
w^hile the newly "elected" Captain read out the appoint- 
ments of non-commissioned officers — five sergeants and 
eight corporals. No major-general was ever prouder of his 
w^cD-earned stars than were some of those corporals of the 
chevrons that within half an hour decorated the sleeves 
of their blouses. They had but a vague notion of the 
official functions of corporals, but they stood a round higher 
on the military ladder than the privates, and this knovv^l- 



"ONLY A PRIVATE." 45 

edge brought with it a consciousness of superiority, and 
a feeling that they were indispensable to the prosecution 
of the w^ar. 

Si Klegg stood with ears agog while the list was being 
read. He did not expect to hear his name called out and 
so he suffered no disappointment. In this respect he was 
more fortunate than many others, who thought that the 
captain showed very poor judgment in making his selec- 
tions. Si had no more thought of being a corporal than 
he had of being a brigadier, and he was perfectly content 
to let his name remain among the K's, down in the body 
of the company roll. The captain did not hit the bull's- 
eye every time inappointingthe non-commissioned officers 
— no captain ever did in organizing a new company. Ex- 
ternal appearances were often deceitful, and it was not easy 
to say from a man's looks how good a soldier he would 
make. Like tallow, he had to be tried — and in the fire, too. 
A year or so of real solid service, with a battle or a skir- 
mish now and then, aided greatly in a proper solution of 
the question. 

The quartermaster was up to his ears in business, 
issuing such clothing and other articles as the men needed 
to complete their equipment. When the new orderly of 
Company Q called up the boys to get their overcoats there 
was a great scramble. The orderly handed them out just 
as they came, without reference to size, leaving the men to 
fit themselves as best they could by" "trading" with one 
another. It really made little difference, for there was not 
much "fit" to them anyway; but when a fat man found 
himself in possession of a coat that would not come 
together, while his lean comrade had one that reached half 
way around the second time ; when a tall man drew a very 
short coat and a short man a very long one, there \vas 
need for a harmonious adjustment. This was measurably 
accomplished by a system of exchange, but of necessity 



4G 



NOT ''made to ORb^R.*' 



there were some odd ones who had to take such as the\ 
could get. 

Si's circumference of body, in consequence of the pleni- 
tude of his mother's commissariat, was somewhat in 
excess of its due proportion to his height. It was very 
likely that after a while a smaller garment would hold 
him, but the present needs of his well-rounded form 
required one of large capacity. When he found one that 
he could button over his stomach the " tails " reached to his 

ankles. His sister Maria would 
have laughed herself into h^^s- 
terics if she could have seen him 
in that big blue coat. Si said 
confidentially to one of his com- 
rades that he didn't w^ant to 
begin grumbling right off, but 
he should think they might 
have measured him and made 
him a coat that would fit in- 
stead of giving him such a 
thing as that. He learned in 
time that Uncle Sam did not 
run his tailor shop on that 
principle. And then the great 
unwieldy cape that flapped 
about his arms— he could not 
imagine what that w^as for. 
His first impulse was to cut it 
off,* but he finally thought he 
would w^ait and see, as they w^ere all made that way, and 
tJaere must be some mysterious purpose in it. He did, 
however, shorten the tails a foot or so by amputation 
with his knife. 

There was less difficulty with the blankets, as they were 
all alike- and there was no choice. Si thought they 
were much the same as the horse blankets in his father's 




THE ARMY OVERCOAT. 



SI DRAWS A KNAPSACK. 47 

barn. He wondered if they would get curry-combs with 
them. When he first spread his blanket upon the ground 
to see how it looked his eye caught the "U. S." in the 
center. 

"I s'pose that means they b'long to ?7s," he said, " 'n' 
they've marked 'em so nobody won't steal 'em!" 

He thought this was an excellent idea, and showed 
the care and thoughtfulness of the government in pro- 
viding for the soldiers. He contemplated with satisfac- 
tion the fact that, so far as the blanket w^as concerned, 
he would have an advantage over the tall men, as he could 
more easily keep his feet warm.. 

Then the knapsacks were distributed. Si had never 
seen one before. He had only heard there was such a 
thing that a soldier carried his surplus clothing in. He 
had an idea it was built something like a trunk, such as 
other people used w^hen they traveled. He opened it out 
and examined with curious eye its great "pocket" on one 
side and its flaps and straps on the other. He stuffed his 
blanket into the pocket, buckled in his overcoat, and 
then tried to put it on to see how it would feel. The first 
time he stuck his arms through what he conceived to be 
the places intended for them, the knapsack landed squarely 
in front of him. This, he was sure, could not be right, and 
he tried it again. He got mixed up in a chaos of straps 
and buckles and the riotous knapsack dangled under one 
of his arms. Extricating himself, he laid it upon the ground 
and prepared for another trial. 

"I'll git the durned thing on 'f it takes t'll Christmas!" 
he exclaimed. 

After another examination of the perverse contrivance, 
bethought he had found the correct theory of putting it on. 
Swinging it up to his shoulders, and leaning far forward 
that it might the more easily be kept in its position until 
he could make the necessary connection, he thrust one 
arm through the closed strap, holding it up from the rear 



48 



TRYING TO "get THE HANG " OF IT. 



with his other hand, almost unjointing his shoulder. 
Then he tried to fasten the hook and had nearly succeeded 
when the knapsack gave a great lurch, as the cargo of a 
ship shifts in a storm, and rolled to leeward. It carried 
him off his balance, and knapsack and Si went down upon 
the ground all in a heap. 

Si was not in the habit of losing his temper, but as he 
again got upon his feet there were symptoms of fermenta- 
tion. He began ^to utter language as expressive as his 
Sunday school instruction would permit, when one of his 

comrades approached, 
laughing heartily at 
the result of his tussle 
with the knapsack. 

"Lemme help ye git 
the hang of it, pard!" 
he said. 

The speaker was lank 
and lean, and his w^ell- 
tanned face gave evi- 
dence of much exposure 
to wind and sun. He 
was a kind of "black 
sheep" in the company. 
Whence he came no one 
knew. He entered the 




SI FINDS HIS MATCH. 



recruiting office one day and enlisted in Company Q in a 
business-like way, as if he knew just what he was doing. 
The bo^^s dubbed him "Shorty " because he ^vas so tall — or 
rather he looked so on account of his thinness. Si had no 
accfuaintance with him, and they had not even spoken 
together before. 

"Thank'ee; don't keer 'f ye do!" replied Si. "I didn't 
s'pose the thing 'd floor me that w^ay. Sh'd think chey 
mout git up some better contraption 'n that !" 

"I reck'n thev couldn't do no better considerin'," said 



"SHORTY. 



49 



Shorty. It's easy 'nough when ye larn how. Ye see I was 
out a while when the war fust started 'nthe three months' 
sarvice, 'n' I picked up a Httle suthin 'bout soldierin'. I 
hap'n'd ter strike the town that day I jined Comp'ny Q, 
'n' I jest tuk a notion ter give her 'nother turn. Now this 
's the way ter sling a knapsack." 

Short}^ first put it on himself, showing Si how to take 
hold of it, swing it up into position and fasten the end of 
the strap under his arm. 

"I don't see nothin' the mat- 
ter with that," exclaimed Si. 
"I kin do that 'n' not half 
try!" 

Shorty took it off in sol- 
dierly style and laid it upon 
the ground. Si then renew- 
ed the encounter, determined 
that he would not let it get 
away with him this time. 
With a little help from Shorty 
he succeeded, and marched 
around with the great lump 
on his back, and a smile of 
satisfaction at the achieve- 
ment of his first victory. 

"It's goin' ter be jest fun 
ter carry this thing, "he said. 
"I've heern tell 't some o' the 
soljers makes a right smart shorty. 

o' fuss 'bout luggin' the'r knapsacks, but 't seems 's if I'd 
jest enj'y it." 

"I hope ye will," was Shorty's only answer. He did 
not want to dampen the ardor of the ambitious young 
recj'uit. 

''P'r'aps ye kin tell a feller what this is," Si said to 
Shor-'y, as the orderly handed him a. piece of rubber cloth, 




50 THE PONCHO OR "GUM BLANKET.'* 

six feet long by four feet wide, with a slit eighteen inches 
in length running crosswise in the center. Si thougiii 
there was no end to the curious things he was getting for 
his outfit. 

"That's a poncho," replied Shorty. 

"What makes 'em call it that, 'n' what's it fer?" 

"I reck'n they calls it a poncho 'cause that's its name,*' 
said Shorty. "Ye don't want ter stick up yer nose at it, 
nuther, fer it'll come 'bout 's hand}^ to ye 's anything ye'll 
git. It's mighty good ter spread on the ground under yer 
blanket when ye goes ter bed. Ye know wet won't soak 
through Injy-rubber, 'n' it'll help pervent ye ketchin' the 
rumaticks. 'Sides that, when ye have ter lie down 'n the 
mud it keeps yer blanket clean. Then when ye're marchin' 
in the rain it beats 'n umbreller all holler. Y^e jest take it 
this way." 

Shorty proceeded to illustrate his lecture on the value of 
the article by thrusting his head through the slit. The 
poncho fell loosely around him from his shoulders, extend- 
ing as far down as the knees, before and behind, and 
covering him as a mantle — not wholly unlike that fantastic 
achievement of the modern dressmaker, the " Mother Hub- 
bard." With the "gum " side outward it gave promise of 
excellent protection from rain. 

Then Si put it on and promenaded around as proud as a 
peacock. He could hardly find words strong enough to 
express his admiration for a government that had provided 
so bountifully for him. 

"I don't keer 'f it rains pitchforks," he said, " 's long 's 
I've got this thing." 

Every hour Si felt more and more glad that he had 
enlisted ; he was going to have such a nice time of it. 

Shorty did not exaggerate the value of this item iu the 
soldier's wardrobe. Its official name was the "poiicho," 
but this word had no meaning to the boys, few of whom 
were supplied with dictionaries, and they always called it 



THE INDISPENSABLE HAVERSACK. 51 

the "gum blanket." The specific purposes for which it 
was made were those described by Shorty, but it had 
many other uses. It was convenient to wrap around a 
quarter of pork or mutton which it was desired to 
smuggle into camp. It was provided with a flap and 
buttons to close the aperture in the center, and was handy 
to carry upon the shoulder half a bushel or so of apples or 
sweet potatoes. About half the ponchos, after they 
had been in service a few months, had "checker-boards" 
penciled or painted on them, and the other half had the 
necessary squares and figures for "chuck-a-luck," "sweat," 
"Honest John," and other fascinating games that tended 
to impoverish those who were addicted to them. 

Another detail returned from a visit to the quarter- 
master, and the orderly began to hand around to each 
man a white canvas bag that would hold about a peck, 
with a strap attached to opposite sides. 

"What's this?" asked Si of his new acquaintance, 
who ^was standing near as one of the bags was given to 
him. 

" That's yer haversack !" 

"But what's it yer.^" 

* ' Ter carry yer grub in ! " replied Shorty. ' ' If ye' ve got '9 
good a appetite 's I think ye hev f 'm yer looks, ye can't 
git 'long 'thout that, nohow. Ye may see the time 't ye'll 
wish ye had more ter put in it ; but jest let me tell ye tei 
hang outer yer haversack through thick 'n' thin. It'll 
be the best friend j^e'll find in the army." 

Si readily coincided with his comrade's views concerning 
its value, and inwardly resolved that v^hatever might 
betide he would stick to his haversack, and defend it 
with his life. He thought it was very nice, it looked so 
white and clean. 

There were haversacks — and haversacks. Theoretically 
they were all water-proof, but practically they were quite 
the reverse, particularly after they had become a little worn. 



52 EDUCATING THE SENSES. 

A penetrating rain storm was very likely to make a sorry 
mess of their contents. Some of them were black and 
some were white — that is to say, they were white when 
new. By the time one of these had been in use for a few 
weeks as a receptacle for chunks of fat bacon and fresh 
meat, damp sugar tied up in a rag — perhaps a piece of an 
old shirt — potatoes and other vegetables that might' be 
picked up along the route, it took on the color of a print- 
ing-office towel. It would have been alike offensive to the 
eyes and nose of a fastidious person'. Very likely he would 
have gone hungry a good while before he could bring him- 
self to eat anything out of it. But the educated taste of 
the veteran soldier disdained all such squeamishness. 
When his regiment halted he "would drop by the road- 
side, draw his grimy and \vell-greased haversack around in 
front of him, and from its dark and odorous recesses bring 
forth what tasted better to him than the daintiest morsel 
to the palate of an epicure. It was all in getting used to 
such things. 

If at this time one of the war-v^orn haversacks that went 
through "to the Sea" had been laid before Si Klegg at 
dinner time, he would have placed his fingers to his nose 
and turned away in dire disgust, saying: "Is thy servant 
ac/o^that he should do this thing?" It would be all. right 
after a while, but he would have to come to it gradually. 
"Rome was not built in a day;" no more did a soldier 
learn in that limited time to eat a campaign meal out of 
one of those fearful haversacks and be thankful. Some- 
times a stray recruit joined a veteran company. His 
hands were white, his face clean, and his appetite had 
been pampered by home diet. For a time he was alto- 
gether too "nice" and particular, and the old soldiers 
treated with withering scorn such symptoms of efTeminacy. 

No^v and then, in a spasm of reform, a man would try 
to wash his haversack, but the laundry facilities of the 
arm}^ were sadly defective, and only indifferent results 



A. VARIETY IN HAVERSACKS. 53 

were attained. The original whiteness of that haversack 
was gone forever. If it showed an improved appearance, 
it was but brief and delusive. It w' as soon blacker than 
before, and the last state of that haversack was worse 
than the first. 

The only superiority of the haversack made of black 
material lay in the fact that the effects of use were not so 
plain to the eye. The grease and dirt were there just the 
same, but they did not* show, and less violence was done 
to one of the senses. As far as the nose was concerned, 
there was no difference. Indeed, the combination of smells 
from the black haversack was apt to be the more pungent 
and overwhelming, because its uncleanness v^as less ap- 
parent to the eye, and, therefore, liable to be neglected. It 
should be understood that these conditions did not exist 
to such a degree when the soldiers were lying in camp, 
w^ith opportunities to keep themselves and their belong- 
ings in a state of cleanliness, and to supply themselves 
with new articles of equipment when needed. It was 
when, for weeks at a time, they were on the march and the 
picket-line, and lying in the trenches, day and night — when 
considerations of personal comfort were sunk in the one 
all-pervading purpose to fight the enemj^ and end the war. 

A new officer generally provided himself with a shiny, 
patent-leather haversack that would hold a day's rations, 
and had a convenient pocket in which he might carry a 
flask — for medicinal purposes — while his reserve supplies 
were transported in a wagon or upon the strong shoulders 
of a burly "contraband." A thorough soaking was 
enough to use up one of these dainty affairs, and during 
the long campaigns the officer was glad enough to throw 
one of the regulation haversacks over his shoulder and 
take "pot-luck" with the boys. 

The next addition to Si's outfit was a canteen. This 
was a simple article, made of tin and covered with cloth, 
shaped like the earth, except that it was a good deal more 



5 4? THE CANTEEN. 

"flattened at the poles," and with a cloth strap running 
around at the equator by which it was suspended over 
one shoulder and carried against the opposite hip. It 
would hold about three pints. Of course, Si had to put it 
on and wear it a while. Every new thing he received was 
a source of wonder and delight to him, gratifying his 
curiosity and making him feel more like a soldier. Ever 
since he signed the roll of Company Q he had been im- 
patient for the day when he should be arrayed in all the 
panoply of war. 

The canteen was the natural complement of the haver- 
sack. These two articles of equipage were as inseparable 
and as necessary to each other as the two boots of a pair. 
When a soldier lost either of them by the casualties of war, 
he gave no sleep to his eyes nor slumber to his eyelids until 
the vacuum in his accouterments was filled. If a soldier 
had to have anything, he generally got it by fair means or 
foul. 

The uses of the canteen w^ere manifold. Its chief duty as 
a factor in the Avar was the transportation of water, 
although it was found equally adapted to carrying some 
other things. It came handy to the forager for milk, cider 
or molasses. In very rare instances it was also used for 
liquids of a more vigorous and searching character than 
any of these — for now and then a man found his way into 
the army who v^as not a member in good standing of a 
temperance society. 

A peculiarity of the canteen was that its usefulness did 
not end when it was no longer fit to serve in its legitimate 
sphere. When a lot of them became battered and leaky, 
and the company commander w^anted to drop them from 
his monthly return of government property for which he 
was responsible, he would have them duly condemned by 
a board of officers appointed to hold a solemn inquest 
upon them. These regulation forms having been com- 
plied with, the old canteens were eagerlv sought after 



ITS POSTHUMOUS USES. 55 

by the soldiers, who were now at Hberty to make such use 
of them as their ingenuity might suggest. 

The necessities and deprivations of active campaigning 
developed among the veterans a wonderful fertility of 
resource. Under such circumstances men become intensely 
practical. Everything that could in any way contribute 
to human welfare and comfort was brought into play, 
and the makeshifts resorted to were often startling and 
ludicrous. 

The old canteen was thrown into the fire and the heat 
soon melted the solder by which the halves were joined, 
and the soldier found himself in possession of two tin 
basins eight or ten inches across and in the center about 
two inches deep. One of these he carried day after day in 
his haversack. It wa^not often that the latter was so full 
of provisions that there was not plenty of room for it. Its 
weight was nothing, and he found it useful in ways that 
the man who made it never thought of. 

The government forgot tosuppl\^the soldiers with wash- 
basins, and the half-canteen made a convenient substitute. 
It was a trifle small, it is true, but by being frequently re- 
plenished it answered the purpose admirably. After the 
man had finished his ablutions he would rinse it out with 
a dash of water — or if he was too hungry to do this it was 
a matter of small moment — split the end of a stick for a 
handle, and he had a fr3nng-pan — a prime article. Tons 
and tons of the flesh of swine were fried in the half-canteen, 
not to mention the pieces of chicken and the succulent 
vegetables that were in this way prepared for eating. If 
he drew coffee in a "raw" state, the half-canteen was an 
excellent roaster. Now and then it came handy for cook- 
ing "flapjacks," when he chanced to get hold of something 
of which to make them. In the fall, when the corn in the 
fields was hardening, he took a half-canteen, stabbed it full 
of holes with his bayonet, from the inside, and the convex 
surface made an excellent grater, and a dish of "samp" 



56 THE artist's view of it. 

relieved the everlasting monotony of regulation diet. Even 
ripe corn was thus grated into a sort of meal from which 
mush and indescribable cakes were fearfully and v^onder- 
fully made. 
Indeed, for months at a time, a half-canteen and an old 




USEFUL CAREER OF THE CANTEEN. 

fruit-can, in which to boil coffee, comprised his entire 
culinary "kit." They were simple but they were enough, 
and in their possession he was happy. The nice coffee-pot 
and frying-pan that he once owned had long since siK 
cumbed to the vicissitudes of army life. 



ORDERED TO THE FRONT. 57 

Sometimes the veteran found himself suddenly placed in 
a position where he wanted something between himself 
and the muskets of the enemy, and he wanted it right oif. 
There was no time to send back to the rear for picks and 
nhovels. With a bayonet to loosen the dirt he scratched out 
a hole with his half-canteen, and, with the aid of a log or 
two or three rails or a few stones, against which he threw 
the earth, he had a safe protection from bullets. In this 
way a line of experienced skirmishers would burrow into 
the ground and almost disappear from sight with a quick- 
ness that was amazing. 

Illustrations of the clever uses of the old canteen might 
be almost indefinitely multiplied. Si Klegg had but the 
.faintest idea of the many ways in which that simple article 
of his outfit would prove to him "a friend in need " during 
his devious wanderings as he followed the flag of the 200th 
Indiana. 

Toward evening came b}^ telegraph the expected order to 
take the cars at once for the front. The emergency w^as 
becoming hourly more pressing. There seemed a strong 
probabilitv that the regiment would be called into imme- 
diate service of the most active kind. If so, it would take 
the field at a disadvantage, not having had an hour's drill 
or a syllable of military instruction. Most of the regi- 
ments had been drilled in camp a few weeks before leaving 
their respective States. The members of the 200th Indiana 
would, however, be spared much of the mental anxiety and 
suffering that was endured through the slbwly-dragging 
days by hundreds of thousands while they were held in 
camp like impatient hounds in leash, lest the war would be 
over before they could get there. 

So the order to move was received with uproarious 
cheering. The fledgelings were panting to "see the 
elephant," and there was good prospect that they would 
soon gaze upon him in all his glory and magnitude. There 
was much hubbub during the brief time allowed the men 



58 A GENHKAL HUSTLE. 

to get themselves in readiness. The officers seemed to 
consider it necessary to make a good deal of fuss, and 
they stormed around in a convulsive way, shouting their 
orders to the men. The sergeants and corporals had a 
misty idea that they ought to do something by virtue of 
their positions and the honors that had been heaped upon 
them, and their voices helped to swell the din. A day's 
ration of "soft bread" and cooked meats was issued to 
supply the wants of the men during the trip by rail. Most 
of them had no need for this, however, as they had brought 
from home that morning pie and cake and other food, as 
much as they could eat in a week. 

Si thought he had better take all the provisions he could 
get, and stowed his portion carefully in his haversack- 
Then he filled his new canteen and thought he would take 
a "pull" at it just to see how it worked. It was a very 
small thing — learning how to drink out of a canteen — but 
there were many whose first effort to do this was noi 
wholh^ satisfactory. It was so with Si. Without i 
thought that there was anything to learn about so simpk 
a matter, he gayly swung up the canteen, threw back his 
head, rolled his eyes, puckered his lips, and placed the 
"nozzle " at the opening. He did not get his lips fixed just 
right, and from the sides of his mouth streams of cold 
water went streaking down his neck and thence traversing 
his warm body and bringing up in his shoes. He gave a 
little shiver as the canteen came down quicker than it 
went up. After experimenting with some caution for a 
minute or two, he caught the "knack" of suction and of 
staying the downward rush of water, and the problem 
was solved. Then he took a long drink, and never in his 
life had water tasted half so good to him as when it came 
gurgling and fizzing from the neck of that canteen. 

Si hastily packed in his knapsack the few articles of 
clothing he had drawn, rolled up his blanket and strapped 



SI LEARNS TO "DRESS UP." 59 

tt in its place, and he was ready to advance upon the 
enemy. 

' ' Compan}^ — Fall in! " shouted the captain, impressively, 
as the drum at headquarters gave the signal. "Orderly, 
form the company!" 

Now the orderly sergeant knew just as much about cal- 
culating the time and duration of the next eclipse of the 
moon as he did about "forming the company." 

"Git into a string, you fellers!" he exclaimed, and the 
men huddled together in a state of almost hopeless cin- 
arch\^ They swayed and bulged and surged forward and 
backward in the vain attempt to form a line. The orderly 
bustled up and down the front with great zeal, judiciously 
distributing pushes and punches to the more perverse 
ones, all the time exercising his tongue in a manner that 
\\.^as highly encouraging for future usefulness. The captain 
was about as ignorant as the orderly, but it wasthelatter's 
dut\' to form the company, and this fact let the captain 
out, affording a convenient cloak to hide his lack of knowl- 
edge. He kindly went to the orderl3''s assistance, backed 
b\' the two lieutenants, and the combined efforts of the 
four finally brought the men to anchor in two tolerably 
straight "rows." 

"Dress up, there, you Klegg!" yelled the captain with 
terrifying vehemence. 

Si tremblingly began to examine his clothes. A hasty 
inspection showed him that they were in proper order. 

"Please, sir," he said with some hesitation, "I don't see 
how I can be any more 'dressed up ' 'n I am, 'thout I gits 
some nicer clothes !" 

"Silence!" roared the captain. "Don't j^ou know that 
'dress up ' means to get into a straight line?" 

"Nobod\' never told me," replied Si. 

*'Not another word, sir. I've told you now and that's 
enough, Ye've got to learn that there ain't to be atiy 
back talk, either." 



60 MUSTERED INTO SERVICE. 

Si was naturally impulsive and quick to resent anv 
attempt to impose upon him. He wanted to say some- 
thing in reply, but on second thought concluded he had 
better keep quiet. He did think, however, that the cap- 
tain need not have made so much ado about it. 

Si had met at the very threshold — as did many others- 
one of the most difficult lessons to be learned before he 
could be a perfect soldier. It was not an easy matter foi 
volunteers of such a class as largely composed the Union 
army to submit, without question or reply, to the moods 
and whims of those who were in no way their superiors, 
save in a military sense, and to yield implicit obedience to 
their commands — to sink the individual in the soldier. 
Some never succeeded in this. 

The adjutant and sergeant-major had as much trouble 
in forming the regiment as the orderly did in getting com- 
pany Q into line, but it was accomplished after much trib- 
ulation. 

Before starting it was necessary — according to "Regula- 
tions" — that the men should be formally mustered into 
the service of the United States. Under the circumstances 
it was determined to muster the whole regiment in a 
"lump, "instead of in detail by companies. As soon as the 
line was formed the pompous mustering officer appeared, 
in tow of the colonel. 

"What they goin' ter do now?" Si Klegg asked of 
Shorty. 

"I reck'n we're goin' ter git mustered," was the reply. 

"It'll be kind o' nice," said Si, "ter have mustard t' eat 
on biled ham — fer I s'pose the guvyment '11 give us ham 
once 'n a while — but I hain't got nothin' ter carry it in." 

" 'Taint that," replied Shorty, laughing; "it's only jest 
a leetle red-tape pufformance 't clenches the nail 't the 
'listin' ossifer druv into ye, 'n' fixes ye so ye can't git out 
'less ye git shot out. That's what they calls gittin' mus- 
tered. But come ter think on't, yer idee wa'n't fur out o' 



AWAY TO THE TENTED FIELD. 61 

the way. Ye gits mustered now 'n' ye're likely ter git 
peppered when j'e strike the rebils, 'n mebbe je'W get salted 
down for keeps. There ain't much danger 't ye won't be 
purty well seasoned 'fore ye git through 'th this thing." 

The ceremony lasted but a few minutes and then all was 
ready for the start. The colonel and the field and staff 
officers, on gaily caparisoned horses, pranced around, the 
band struck up a lively march, and, amidst the cheers of 
the spectators and the responsive shoutsof the soldiers, the 
column moved off. 

The knapsacks were not very heavy, as they contained 
nothing but clothing. Si had not opened the box he 
brought from home, and had some concern respecting 
its fate. He was reassured by the information that, as 
there had been no opportunity for the men to put their 
things in order, all the baggage would accompany the 
regiment to its first stopping place, vt^here its equipment 
would be fully provided. 

The train had been reported to be in readiness at the 
railway station, but of course it wasn't; nobody ever 
heard of such a thing. The regiment had to wait and 
stand around for two hours before it received the 
welcome order, "All aboard!" It was after dark when 
the eager men packed themselves into the cars for an all- 
tiight ride. The two engines whistled and coughed, the 
people hurrahed and waved hats and handkerchiefs, the 
soldiers thrust their heads out of the windows and yelled 
—and the 200th Indiana was off to the war. 



CHAPTER V. 

In Which the Bright Colors that Fancy Painted Begin to Fade— 
The Soldier and his " Pard" — How Si was Led From the Straighi 
AND Narrow Way of Soldierly Rectitude. 

THERE was little sleep on the train that night. The 
boys fought imaginary battles and yelled and sang 
and laughed at one another's jests. It was a long time 
before the members of the 200th Indiana found another 
occasion for such hilarity — not till those that were left of 
them went home at the close of the war. 

"There won't be so much laughing in a few days," said 
the colonel, "let 'em enjoy themselves while they can !" 

A few were sober and thoughtful, realizing that every 
moment was bringing them nearer to scenes of danger and 
death. Some wanted to sleep as best they could in the 
crowded seats, but this was impossible in the universal 
tumult of mirth and jollity that prevailed. At frequent 
intervals the soldiers stirred up the musicians to play mar- 
tial airs, and the roar of the fast speeding train was drowned 
by rattling drums and screaming fifes and the shouts evoked 
by the inspiring strains. One would hardly have thought 
those men were going to war to kill and be killed; but 
that was the way all the regiments went out. 

Si had for his seat-mate his new friend Shortj^, who had 
volunteered to help him out of his quandary with the knap- 
sack. He was taken with his kindly ways, notwithstand- 
ing his rough exterior, and was quite disposed to improve 

62 



si's first view of war, 63 

the acquaintance. Si was an active and noisy participant 
in the night's merriment, and in the morninghe felt consid- 
erably fagged. He told Shorty that he thought on the 
whole they had had a pretty hard time of it. 

About breakfast time the regiment reached its immediate 
destination. As the men alighted from the train they 
found themselves surrounded by reminders of war. They 
had reached the grand army of which each of them was 
to become an atom. Thenceforward they were to be iden- 
tified with its history — its triumphs and its defeats. There 
were soldiers everywhere, engaged in the various duties 
incident to preparation for a great campaign. The streets 
of the city were full of wagons loaded with ammunition, 
food, clothing, forage and army supplies of all kinds. On 
every hand Avere heard the yell of the mule-driver and the 
crack of his whip. There were officers of every grade 
dashing about, cavalrymen with clanking sabers galloping 
hither and thither, artillery rumbling over the pavements, 
and bodies of infantry moving from point to point. All 
was bustle and confusion, such as the e^^es of these new 
soldiers had never looked upon before. 

Si Klegg was keenly interested in all that he saw and 
heard. To him there was a fascination in this pomp 
and display — the uniforms, the glittering baj'-onets, the 
men marching with measured tread, and the bespangled 
officers — that bound him as with a spell. At last had 
come the realization ot his romantic dreams. He could 
scarcely wait until he should have a gun to put on his 
shoulder. 

"Hello, sonn}^ does yer mother know ye're out?" 

It was very cruel to say this to Si, as he stood with his 
hands in his pockets and with open mouth and eyes gazing 
in astonishmsnt at the scenes around him. The man who 
said it was a rusty-looking soldier who, with a few of his 
comrades, chanced to pass that way. 

"Yes, mother said I rni-ht come!" said Si, innocentlv. 



64 



fliS TEMPER IS RUFFLED. 



Then the veterans laughed loudly and stopped to "have 
some fun." Si could not for his life see anything for them 
to laugh at. 

"Say, bub, give us a hunk o' gingerbread!" 
"Look at the big ridgment o' tenderfoots! Won't thcj 
be a-humpin' one o' these days?" 
"Jest see them paper collars !" 
"Had any hardtack yet?" 

Si did not comprehend the army lingo. It was as if 

they had spoken to 
him in an unknown 
tongue. But he 
found that they 
were making game 
of him and then his 
wrath began to 
I rise. In fact, he 
went so far as to 
express a willing- 
ness to fight the 
entire squad. His 
eyes flashed as he 
said to them : 

"I've comc'down 
here to do some 
fightin', 'n' I'd jest 
like to git m}^ hand 
in!" 
This warlike dem- 
onstration was greeted with jeers and shouts of laughter. 
"Better save what sand ye've got, young feller," said 
one of them, "ye'll have need fer it 'fore long." 

A hand was laid upon Si's arm, and Shorty drew him 
aside. 

"I don't blame ye fer gittin' mad, Si, " he said, ' ' but it don't 
alius pay. When the odds is too big ye can't do nothin 




SI S FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH THE VETERANS. 



GETTING ACQUAINTED WITH THE VETERANS. 65 

but grin 'n' b'ar it. Them fellers don't mean no harm. 
They has ter have the'r fun Avhen they gits a chance ; they 
look 's if they hadn't been havin' much on it lately. Ef ye 
was hungry, they'd divide their last cracker with ye, 'n' 
ef ye was lyin' sick er wounded they'd give ye all the 
blankets they had, ef ye needed 'em. Soldiers is queer 
bein's 'n' ye have ter git so ye kin understand 'em." 

Shorty's homeh^ philosophy had its designed effect and 
Si soon recovered his equanimity. When his tormen- 
tors found him laughing at their good-natured badinage, 
they left him and turned their fire upon others. 

These men had been in active service for a year. Their 
clothing and their faces and hands gave abundant evidence 
that the}^ had been somewhere. Si eyed them curiously 
and he wondered if he would ever be like them. 

"Attention, Company 0! " 

The regiment formed and marched out two or three 
miles to the place assigned it for a camp. It was not fat 
to march, and the men had little to carry, but for some- 
reason they were all very glad when they got there. Thet 
had a slight foretaste of how hard it was to travel "ii' 
harness." After reaching the outskirts of the cit\^ thej 
saw nothing but camps. As far as the eye could reach in 
every direction, the white villages of regiments and brig- 
ades dotted every field, wood and hillside. Si wondered 
where so many soldiers came from. 

The aspect of the 200th Indiana "gave it away" com- 
pletely. The men were without arms, their clothes were 
new and their faces clean. The full ranks had not been 
scorched and shriveled by the hot blast of war. There 
could be no mistaking the fact that it was a new regiment 
just from home. 

The veterans would always rather go without a dinner 
than to miss a chance to "nag" a fresh arrival of green 
soldiers. It was the height of enjoyment to stand b\ tne 
roadside as, they trudged by and assail them in front 



66 THE 200TH IN A DRIZZLE. 

flank and rear with pungent remarks and questions 
clothed in all the luxuriant beauty of the army vernacular. 
It was great sport for the veterans, but not quite so funny 
for their victims. 

All the way out the long-suffering members of the 200th 
Indiana had to run the gauntlet of the tanned and bearded 
soldiers of the crop of '61. The band at the head of the 
column kept playing defiantly, but It did not take the men 
long to learn that it was the part of wisdom to receive in 
silence the "slings and arrows" that were constantly 
hurled upon them. Perhaps it was this experience, quite 
as much as the fatigue of the march, that induced the feel - 
ingof satisfaction with which they saw first thecoloneland 
then the band file off the road, indicating that the halting 
place had been reached. A cheer started at the head of the 
column and the whole regiment joined in a wild shout of 
joy. 

The most desirable spots for camping were already 
occupied, and the 200th was obliged to content itself with 
a cornfield. Unfortunately the rain began to fall just as 
it broke ranks. It was not a hard rain, but one of those 
exasperating drizzles so destructive to the Christian vir- 
tues. When it had to rain — and the frequency of the storms 
seemed wholly unnecessary — the soldier \\rould rather 
have it pour down while it was about it and then quit, 
than to endure one of those protracted seasons when the 
water oozed slowly from the low-hanging clouds, and 
dribbled down, filling the air with a heavy mist that 
made everything cold and vi^et and clammj^ Possibly the 
human race may have been in some degree regenerated 
since the war, but at that time there were few men living 
— and they all stayed at home — who could pass through a 
day or two of such experience and not lose control ol 
tongue and temper. 

The members of the 200th Indiana were indeed in a sorry 
plight. They were without shelter, as their tents had not 



FIRST EXPERIENCE WITH "RED TAPE." 67 

yet arrived. They could only stand around, with their 
heads sticking through their ponchos, churning the soft 
earth into mud with their restless feet. This dismal and 
unlooked for visitation had a most depressing effect upon 
their spirits. Their mental condition was in marked con- 
trast to the revelry of the previous night. Most of them 
looked as if they would like to take the next train for In- 
diana, if the matter of return tickets had not been entirely' 
overlooked. 

There was a great deal of justifiable grumbling because 
tents were not awaiting the regiment upon its arrival, as 
its coming was known. Such a thing, however, never oc- 
curred during the war. It was unheard of and unthought 
of, except by the soldiers who happened to be caught as 
was the 200th Indiana. A great many things might have 
been but were not, on account of the kinks in the red-tape 
in which every department of the army was tangled. 

So a thousand men, wet and disconsolate, had to wait 
while the colonel and quartermaster galloped back to 
town after tents. They w^ent straight to headquarters 
and made application for them, but were prompth' informed 
that business was not done in that way. A requisition 
must be made in due form, according to regulations, and 
must be approved by the various intermediate commanders 
— ^brigade, division, corps and army. In vain the Colonel 
stormed, and declared it was an outrage to keep his men, 
who were not used to such things, standing out in the 
rain while that performance was being gone through with. 
He wanted the tents and v^'ould furnish the papers after- 
ward. But the laws of war had no elasticity, and the 
colonel and quartermaster were obliged to go back and 
start in at the bottom. It took them two hours to get 
around. The regiment had no wagons yet, and the head 
quartermaster did consent to send a couple of teams out 
to the camp with the tents. 

Meanwhile, the men of the 200th had been sloshing 



68 



A SLOPPY TIME. 



about in a deplorable state of mind and body. It was a 
rude awakening from their dreams to the stern reality of 
"soldiering." 

"Are we goin' ter have very much o' this kind o' thing?" 
asked Si, as he stood with the water slowly trickling from 
the rim of his hat and the corners of his poncho, while 
drops just ready to fall hung from his nose and chin. 

"Wall, I can't 'zactly tell," replied Shorty. "There's 
all kinds o' weather, 'n' a good deal on it down 'n this 

kentry. I can't think 
o' nothin' we kin do 
'bout it, 'n' I reck'n 
we'll have to let 'er 
rain 's long 'n' 's of 'n 
's she wants ter." 

"I s'pose that's so; 
but seems ter me 't ef 
I was a-runnin' this 
war I'd have things 
a leetle diff 'runt when 
'the rijiments comes in. 
/ 1 don't see no use 'n 
keepin' us fellers stan'- 
in' 'round here all day 
half way to our knees 
'n mud 'n' gittin' wuss 
every mmit." 

" Si," said Shorty, 
" ye'll larn arter a while. Course, this 'ere 's a damp shame, 
but it's jest the way they alius does things 'n the arm3\ 
But tlier' ain't no good gittin' cranky, 'cause 3'e can't help 
^erself. Ef ye'd hired out to work fer a man to home 'n' 
he didn't treat ye squar', ye could jest up 'n' quit, but 
ther' ain't no gittin' out o' this. They've got jq dead to 
rights!" 
"Who said anything 'bout wantin' ter quit?" exclaimed 




A BAPTISM. 



A DEMAND FOR "PLUCK," 69 

Si, piqued a little at Shorty's implied insinuation that he 
was deficient in staying qualities. "Mebbe I'm younger 
'n some o' the soljers, but I ain't no baby. I kin stan' jest 
's much 's the next tin." 

Shorty hastened to assure him that he had no intention 
of casting slurs upon him. "I b'lieve ye've got grit," he 
said. "I don't know whether Vyc got 'nough myself ter 
last me through, but I like ter see it 'n somebody else." 

This smoothed Si's ruffled feelings, and put him at once 
into as good a humor as was possible under such doleful 
conditions. He summoned to his aid all the "pluck" he 
could command, determined to show his comrade that he 
could and would face like a brave soldier whatever might 
come. The slight pricking that Shorty gave him was just 
what he needed. He had nailed his colors to the mast, so 
to speak, and the^' were going to stay there. Under the 
spur of his resolute will he became cheerful, and even tried 
a few jokes at the expense of his comrades. There was but 
a feeble response, however, for the dripping men of the 
200th Indiana were not in a mood for jesting. What little 
was said was of a different character. 

They had had no breakfast that was worthy of the name. 
There was no danger of immediate starvation, as they had 
eaten liberally during the night, and since then the con- 
tents of their haversacks had sufficed to appease the mild 
gnawings of hunger. They were beginning to feel the need 
of something warming, and %vere most agreeably sur- 
prised when thc}^ were waited upon by a delegation from 
the regiments oi a veteran brigade encamped near by, in- 
viting them over to have some coffee. 

"We've been thar, boys," the^- said, "an' we know jest 
how ye feel. 'Tain't a bit funny. W^e can't give ye no fancy 
lay-out, but we've made a lot o' hot coffee fer ye, an' that'll 
feel good to yer insides. Ye're \velcome to the best we kin 
give ye." 

"Si," said Shorty, "how's that fer a invite? What'd I 



70 TIMELY HOSPITALITY 

tell ye 'bout them soljers? These 's some o' the same fel- 
lers as was liootin' 'n' yellin' at us 's we come up the road. 
I told ye they didn't mean nothin'. They'd jest turn their- 
selves inside out ter do an3'thing fer them that's sufferin' 
'n' needin' help. They don't draw no more coffee 'n they 
want, 'n' they'll have ter go 'thout it one meal on 'count 
o' what they're a-doin' fer us. The vet'rans is a hard 
lookin' lot, but 3-e kin tie to 'em. Si." 

The hospitable invitation was accepted with alacrity, 
and with a profusion of thanks that came from the inner- 
most recesses ot those drooping hearts. The companies 
v^'cre formed and marched to the neighboring camp, two 
or three to each of the regiments, and were cordially wel- 
comed by the very soldiers who had jeered them without 
mercy two hours before. Shorty had not over-stated the 
case. Beneath those ragged blouses were big hearts full to 
the brim with the "milk of human kindness." 

The guests were scattered through the camp and invited 
into the tents in little squads, where they laid off" their 
wet ponchos. 

"We hain't got no cheers," said one of the hosts, as Si 
and Shorty and two or three others entered one of the 
tents. " Thar's a cracker box a couple of 3'e kin sit on, an' 
the rest cf ye '11 have ter git down tailor-fashion on 
these 'ere blankets." 

The dispositions were quickly made and tin cups full of 
steaming coffee were brought in. The odor was sweeter 
than incense to the nostrils of those Hoosiers. 

"Here's plenty o' sugar," said one of the veterans. 
■'This 'mess' is a little short o' spoons; there 's only one 
an' ye'll have to pass it 'long — that's the way we does. 
The cows hain't come up yet, an' we hain't got no milk fer 
ye. Want some hardtack ?" 

"What's it like?" asked Si. 

"Oh, that's the stuff we gits fer bread," replied the 
veteran. "I s'pose 3'e hain't struck any on it A^et. Hard- 



AND WORDS OF ENCOURAGEMENT. 



71 



tack tastes mighty good sometimes, but it's when a feller's 
reel hungry an' hain't got nothin' else to eat. If ye've got 
any soft bread in yer haversacks, I reck'n that'll taste 
better to ye jest now." 

The boys had plenty of bread, and the excellent coffee 
was most refreshing. 

"Purt}^ tough beginnin' fer ye, boj^s, " said one of their 




HOSPITALITY. 



entertainers, "but ye've got to git broke in, same's all on 
us had to. We don't mind it now, 'cause Ave've got used to 
it. Ye're stan'in' it bully, bein' its the fust time, an' if ye 
stick to it 3"e'll make soljers arter a while." 

Si did not quite like the intimation that he was not a 
soldier already. He was certain, at least, that he would be 
one as soon as he had a sfuii on his shoulder and a car- 



72 PITCHING TEXTS. 

tridge-box buckled around his waist. He did notyetrealize 
the difference there was between a recruit and a soldier, 
and the long and severe process that was necessary to com- 
plete the transformation. His first impulse was to argue" 
the question, but a wink from Shorty, who seemed to di- 
vine his thoughts, told him that he had better hold his 
peace. 

The members of the 200th Indiana were profoundly grate- 
ful to the veterans for their kindness, and expressed the 
hope that they might sometime have the opportunity to 
pay the debt. They had a vastly better opinion of the 
old soldiers than they formed two hours before when 
receiving the volleys of taunts and gibes. 

Soon after their return to their own camping-ground 
the wagons with the tents arrived, under convoy of the 
colonel and quartermaster. The camp was hastily laid 
out and all hands fell to with a will. Not a quarter of 
the men had ever seen a tent before that day, and ver^^ few 
knew anything about "pitching" one. But they all 
thought that was easy enough. They hadn't anything 
to drive stakes with, but they borrowed axes and hatchets 
from their neighbors and were soon pounding away with 
great energy. They were not long in finding out that a 
good many things are easy — after you have learned how 
to do them. Even the pitching of a tent required at 
least a limited amount of knowledge and experience. They 
were directed to place them in straight rows, by companies, 
but they got them up askew and "every which way." 
The "flaps" at the front perversely refused to come together, 
leaving great yaw^ning gaps, making it impossible to "shut 
the door." The boys gladly accepted a few suggestions 
from some of the veterans who came over and stood around, 
first exhausting their stock of jokes on the new men, and 
then taking hold in the kindest possible way and showing 
tiiem how to do it. 

Wilh the tents up the camp assumed a rather more cheer- 



A POOR SHOW FOR COMFORT. 7:i 

fill aspect. It would be more nearly correct to say that 
it was a little less miserable, for the two conditions 
were only comparative degrees of woe. The prospect for 
the night was dismal enough. 

" Now, men," said the captain, encouragingh', " get 
divided off, one 'mess ' for each tent, and make yourselves 
as comfortable as you can." And then the captain went 
to the surgeon and told him he didn't feel verj- well, got an 
excuse to go into town, and stayed all night at a hotel. 

"'Pearsterme, Shorty, we're in 'bout 's bad a 'mess' now 
'5 we kin gi*^^!" said Si, as he looked despairingly down at 
his legs, wdiichwere elaborately frescoed with that red clay 
mud so peculiar to the South and as adhesive as patent 
glue. 

The order of the captain to "make themselves comfort- 
tible" had but little meaning to the men of Company 0. 
It seemed a very preposterous thing to talk of manufac- 
turing "comfort," when so destitute of the necessary 
t^lements. As yet the word conve^'cd to them no other idea 
than a well spread table, a rocking-chair before a blazing 
hearth, and a good bed to sleep in. 

There was absolutely nothing in sight, not under guard, 
that could give them relief in their extremity. Boards, 
fails, limbs of trees — anything on which to spread their 
blankets would have been hailed as a favorable dispensa- 
tion of providence, but the last vestige of available 
material had long since disappeared among the thousands 
of soldiers in the densely populated camps. A crow^ might 
have scanned that field in vain for material with which to 
build a nest. 

There were barns and outbuildings and fences in the vicin- 
ity', but bristling bayonets warned off all who sought to 
lay violent hands upon them. They were as tempting to 
those gloomy-hearted Hoosiers as was the forbidden fruit 
to the ancestral pair in the Garden of Eden — and the\^ were 
a great deal more securely protected. The destructive 



/4 TTTE RAIL-GUARDING POLICY. 

propensity, which seemed to be an instinct in the bieast 
of the soldier, showed itseU' at the very outset in the 200th 
Indiana, and foreshadowed great activity in this direction 
whenever the restraint should be removed. As the murky 
twilight began to deepen they would have torn down half 
the city, if they had been turned loose, and used the debris 
to keep themselves out of the mud. But the time for this 
had not yet come. 

The truth is that the soldiers fully adopted the confisca- 
tion theory long before the statesmen and the generals 
did, though not permitted by the latter to carry out their 
eminently practical ideas of how to conduct a campaign. 
But the boys planted their flags there, and after a while 
the lawgivers and the men with stars twinkling on their 
shoulders " dressed up" to the line in fine style. Aftes try- 
ing it for about two years the beautiful theory of carry- 
ing on a war without hiu'ting anybody — in pocket — was 
abandoned. 

The field occupied b}- the 200th was surrounded by a 
rail fence. More properly speaking, it had been so sur- 
rounded before the war. Whatever value for other pur- 
poses there might be in the few scattering rails that 
stretched around the camp, as a fence they were no longer 
of any account. Nor did it seem at all likely that any 
fence would be needed there while the war lasted. When 
the flame of the guns at Sumter lighted up the heavens 
with its lurid glare, about the first thing the government 
did was to place a guard over that sacred fence, and it had 
been kept up ever since. Judging from the faithfulness with 
which the sentinels paced their beats around that field, 
successively' relieving one another through all the weeks 
and months, the protection of those rails — that no soldier 
might lay them down to sleep on, or make fires of them to 
cook his coffee and bean-soup — seemed to be the chief pur- 
pose for which the arm\' w^as sent down there. The con- 
dition of the fence at this time ofave abundant evidence of 



A GLOOMY OUTLOOK. 75 

the fact that the vigilance of the guards had not been 
vvhollv successful in preventing depredations. Numerous 
forays on dark nights, the moment of attack being when 
a guard was at a remote point on his beat, had resulted in 
a slow but sure process of dissolution. But still the men 
in blue trudged to and fro, by day and by night, over the 
well-worn path, with the same orders that were dinned into 
the astonished ears of the first men who were stationed to 
guard it: "If any man attempts to take a rail from 
that fence, shoot him on the spot !" By the time the 200th 
Indiana moved away, there were no rails left to speak of; 
but in the absence of any testimony on the subject it is 
safe to say that from sheer force of habit the guard \vas kept 
up along the line where that fence was until Lee surren- 
dered at Appomattox. 

"Purty hard place ter sleep, ain't it, Shortj^?" said Si, 
as he stood within the tent, surveying the muddy ground 
and calculating the chances on getting a night's rest. 

"Purty soft, ye mean, don't ye?" replied Shorty. 

Si laughed, more at the thought of a jest from such an 
unexpected source than from the brillianc}^ of the joke 
itself 

"Ther' ain't no diflf'rence," he said, "we're both drivin' 
*t the same idee. What 'd mother 'n' sister Marier say 'f 
they c'd see whar we've got ter lay down, 'nless we stan' 
up to 't all night, 'n' I d'no but that's the best way out o' 
the scrape. Even Dad's hogs 's better off ner we be, fer 
they kin git out o' the mud 'f they wants ter, 'n' that's 
mor'n w^e c'n do!" 

In making up the "messes" these two had naturally 
entered the same tent, and drawn by a mutual attraction 
they had "paired." 

With rare exceptions every soldier had his "pard." New 
troops on taking the field and adjusting themselves to the 
peculiar situations of army life, mated as naturally as birds 
in springtime. The longer +hey remained in the service the 



76 THE SOLDIER A.ND HIS "PARD." 

more did tliej appreciate the convenience of this arrange- 
ment. During the arduous campaigns two constituted a 
family, eating and sleeping together. They "pooled" 
their rations and made an equitable division of labor. On 
the march, if a patch of sweet potatoes, a field of "roasting 
ears," oi an orchard in fruit was reached, one would carry 
the gun of his comrade while the latter would lay in a sup- 
ply of forage for their evening meal, and then hasten for- 
ward to his place in the column. 

On going into camp one w^ould look for straw while the 
other went on a hunt for a chicken or a piece of fresh pork. 
Then while one filled the canteens at the spring or stream, 
the other gathered wood and made a fire. All became 
prime cooks, and this part of the work was shared. If it 
was to be a "regulation" meal, one superintended the 
coffee, pounding up the roasted grains in a tin cup or can 
with the butt of his bayonet while the water was coming 
to a boil, and the other fried or toasted the bacon. If 
either w^as detailed for guard or fatigue duty, he knew that 
the wants of his inner man would be provided for, and his 
portion of any choice morsel would be scrupulously saved 
for him. If one was ill or worse "played out" than the 
other after a toilsome march, his companion cared for him 
with all the tenderness of a brother. If one was imposed 
upon by quarrelsome comrades he could always safely de- 
pend upon his "pard " to stand by him to the last extrem- 
ity. A.t night they lay together upon one blanket with 
the other as a cover. It is not probable that Solomon 
ever snuggled up to his ' ' pard ' ' under a ' ' pup ' ' tent ; but he 
seems to have had the corre6l idea when he wrote (Ecclesi- 
astes IV : 11) : "Again, if two lie together, then they have 
heat: but how can one be w^arm alone?" There were 
many times w'hen they hugged each other like two pieces 
of sticking-plaster, in the vain effort to generate heat 
enough for even a measurable degree of comfort. When 
tw o congenial spirits were thus brought together nothing 



VARIOUS CAUSES OF FRICTION. 77 

but death or a separation at the call of duty could sever 
the ties that bound them. 

It will not be thought strange that many, after "living 
together" for a few days or weeks, found themselves mis- 
mated. In fact it was about as much of a lottery as get- 
ting married is popularly believed to be; and divorces 
w^ere as frequent as in the hymeneal experience of mankind. 

A fruitful source of domestic eruptions was the develop- 
ment and gradual growth of a disposition on the part of 
one member of the firm to "play off" on his more energetic 
comrade, and shirk his part of the labor so indispen- 
sable to their welfare. The soldier was constitutionally 
lazy, so far as the performance of irksome toil was con- 
cerned. This was considered proper and right when ap- 
plied to general fatigue duty, but when a man was too 
lazy to help get his own dinner or go foraging for sweet 
potatoes, he placed himself outside the pale of Christian 
forbearance. Then his "pard" went back on him, and 
sometimes a riot occurred that aroused the whole camp. 
The upshot of it all was that the " drone " was left to shift 
for himself, while the industrious bee, finding it easier to 
provide for one than for two, buzzed around until he could 
pick up a more congenial mate. 

Incompatibility of temper broke up many of these hastily 
formed partnerships. Sometimes the appetites were not 
evenly balanced, and in times of scarcity one ate more 
than his share of the common stock of rations. Then 
there was trouble, and plenty of it. These and other 
causes often disturbed for a time the harmony of intimate 
association, and it generally took about a year to get the 
'• pards " properly adjusted. 

The ravages of disease and the deadly missiles of battle 
made sad havoc with these ties of brotherhood. Few be- 
reavements are more keenly felt than were those among the 
comrades of months and years. 

Fere and there, in every companj^ flock, was a black sheep 



78 A CASE IN POINT. 

who seemed to be a misfit everywhere. Nobody paired 
with him, and — perhaps as much fromi his own choice as 
from the fact that he seemed to have no "affinity" — he 
hved hke a crusty old bachelor in civil life. He made 
his own fire, boiled his coffee in a kettleholding just enough 
for one, and ate his meal alone. Then he rolled himself 
up in his blanket like a mummy and lay down, having, at 
least, the satisfaction of knowing that no bed-fellow would 
kick the cover off in the night and expose him to the 
copious and chilling dews. 

In the company to which the writer belonged there was 
alittle fellow of Teutonic birth, who had a snore that was 
like the sound of a fish-horn. When he was asleep it was 
never silent. He would begin to tune up his bazoo as soon 
as he closed his eyes, and by the time he was fairly asleep 
it would be at full blast. Enough imprecations to sink a 
ship were nightly heaped upon that unfortunate youth. 
Sometimes the boys made it so warm for him that he 
w^ould get up in high dudgeon, seize his blanket, and go off 
back of the camp and crawl into a wagon. Then when 
he got to snoring again it would set all the mules to bray- 
ing. Once w^hen the company was sent, at night, to oc- 
cupy a position near the enemy, and silence was a necessity, 
this man was actually left behind as a prudential measure. 
It was feared he would go to sleep and his snoring would 
convey intelligence to the enemy. But he snored his way 
through the war to the very end. In all the hard fighting 
only one bullet ever touched him — and that did not in the 
slightest degree impair his snoring machinery. Of course 
he never had a "pard." A chap tried it the first night in 
camp, but half an hour after they lay down he got 
up in a rage and left the Dutchman's "bed and board" 
forever. 

"Si," said Shorty, as if an idea had struck him with 
unusual force, "come 'long 'th me!" 

"What fer?" asked Si. 



THE VOICE OF THE TEMPTER. 79 

"Never you mind," was the reply; "jest foller me 'n' 
don't say nothin' ter nobody !" 

Si did as he was bidden, for he was already learning to 
pin his faith to his companion. When they had passed 
outside the rows of tents. Shorty unfolded his scheme. 

"Ther' ain't no use lyin' 'n the mud," he said, " 'n' them 
rails out thar rottin'." 

"Why, Shorty," exclaimed Si, astonished at so flagrant 
a violation of orders, "ye know what they told us; 'n' 
them fellers 's out thar 'th their bay 'nets ! I don't want 
ter have none o' them things punched into me jest yet; I 
want ter see suthin' more o' this war!" 

"Bay'nets be blowed!" said Short}'. "I ain't goin' ter 
git you inter no scrape, so don't ye be 'feard. You stand 
whar I tell je 'n' I'll fotch ye some o' them rails, sure's yer 
bom." 

Si promised to obey, with a dubious hope that it would 
all come out right. He took his position at a safe distance 
from the fence, though not without some smitings of con- 
science. He felt very much as he did once when, beguiled 
at night into a neighbor's melon-patch, he trembled with 
fear lest the old man should turn loose the dogs. 

The darkness favored Shorty's foray. Creeping care- 
fully up he saw the sentinel face about at the end of his 
beat and start in the opposite direction. Two or three 
minutes later Shorty darted up to the fence, seized acouple 
of rails, bore them back and delivered them to Si. 

"Now waitt'll I get 'notlier load," he said. 

"Won't these do?" asked Si. "I don't like ter have ye 
try it agin. I'm 'feard they'll cotch 3^e!" 

"We can't sleep on one rail apiece. I'll be back 'n a 
minit!" 

In an instant he had disappeared. Si stood breathlessly 
awaiting his return. Shorty slipped a figure in his calcu- 
lation this time, and as he was lifting the rails to his 
shoulder he was confronted bv the guard. 



80 



FALLING BACK IN DISORDER. 



Now the truth is the guard did not care how many rails 
were taken. He did not want to see what might be going 
on, for it was not unhkely that the next night, if it was 
dark and he was not on duty, he would be doing the same 
thing himself. But when he came suddenly upon Shorty 
in the very act he could not let him pass unnoticed. Shorty, 
with a grip on the rails, bounded off into the darkness. 

"Halt, there! Halt, 
or I'll blow ye into the 
middle o' next week!" 
Si heard the awful 
words, followed hj the 
ominous click of the 
gun lock. He sank up- 
on the ground all in 
a heap, quaking with 
fear. 

"0-o-oh, Sh-sh-shor- 

ty ! " he exclaimed in a 

:; hoarse whisper, as his 

comrade came dashing 

up- _ 

"Git up, Si, quick: 

% Grab yer rails 'n' run. 
Don't lie thar 'n' let 
'im stab ye er plug a 
hole through 3'^er liver ! ' ' 
In frantic despera- 
tion Si seized the rails. Shorty led the way some dis- 
tance off at a right angle from the line leading to the 
camp. 

"Thar, now, git down 's low 's ye kin!" said Shorty. 

" It'll be only a chance 'f the pesky guard finds us here, 'n' 

ef he does, all we kin do is ter take the consekences. I 

don't b'lieve he'll shute anybody." 

The sentinel tramped around a few minutes in the dark- 




STEALLNG A BED. 



A POOR SUBSTITUTE FOR FEATHERS. 81 

ness and then, glad that the raiders had escaped, turned to 
his beat. 

"Thar it's all right," said Shorty, " 3'e mustn't git scai't 
at a little thing like that. Now let's go in." 

Si was too frightened yet to talk. He once more shoul- 
dered his rails and followed his comrade to the camp. Just 
outside the outermost row of tents they threw them down 
and Si stayed with them while Shorty hunted up an axe. 
He chopped them in two and the\' carried the pieces in 
triumph to their tent. 

Si and Shorty laid down the rails, spread their blankets 
upon them, placed theirknapsacks for pillows, and stretched 
themselves out. It was a hard bed. Si's bones were well 
cushioned with flesh, but the sharp corners of the rails 
made great furrows in his body. 

"Shorty," said Si, after they had lain quiet for a few 
minutes, "what '11 the ossifers do to us 'f they finds these 
'ere rails 'n our tent ?" 

"Don't let that worry ye," replied Short}', "we'll jest 
keep 'em kivered wi' the blankets, t'U we gits a chance ter 
burn 'em tip!" 

Just before dark several wagon loads of green oak logs 
had been dumped at various points through the camp. 
After long effort, that exhausted the patience of several 
successive "reliefs," a few feeble fires were started. Around 
these, wet and shivering and blinded by the smoke, the 
disconsolate men of the 200th Indiana crowded and 
elbowed one another. Patriotism was at zero. 



CHAPTER VL 

Si is Armkd and Eoiipphd for Active PIosTiLirins — The Bavonf v J"\ 

Factor in War. 

ii"\ ^ /"ALL, Si, how d'ye feel?" said Shorty to his 
\ V comrade, as they got up at an early hour next 
nioniing. 

"Fust rate," was the cheery answer. "But I '11 tell ye what 
'tis, pard, I don't hanker much arter that kind o' bed-slats 
'ii' no matrus ter put on 'em. I never did like ter git up 
'n the mornin' to hum, but you kin depend on me fer a 
early riser 's long 's I sleep on sich a bed 's that." And Si 
rubbed his legs and moved about briskly to limber up his 
stiffened joints. 

When company Q fell in for roll-call, the men looked as 
if they had just been to a funeral in the capacity of chief 
mourners. Most of them had scarceh' slept at all, but had 
spent the long hours of the night that they thought would 
never end, in hovering around the smoking fires. The sun 
rose bright, and the genial warmth of his rays gradually 
dispelled the gloom that had settled over the camp. 

It was a busy day. Wagons arrived loaded with rations, 
which were promptly issued to the various companies. 
There was an abundance of the articles that went to make 
up the nourishing regulation menu, except that soft bread 
was furnished in lieu of "hardtack." There seemed to be 
a humane desire to let the bo^^s down to bed-rock by easy 
stages. 

Si felt a lively personal interest in the commissary de- 

82 



THE CAMP-KETTLE. 83 

partment, to which he must look for his daily bread. He 
volunteered to help unload the wagons, and as he saw the 
seemingly bountiful supplies of bread, bacon, sugar, coffee, 
beans, etc., a quiet joy filled his heart. 

"Shortv,"lie said, "this don't look much like starvin' 
the soljers. I'll do jest anything Uncle Sam wants me ter 
's long 's he gives me 'nough ter eat." 

Then other wagons came with a supply of camp-equip 
age — axes, shovels, camp-kettles and other articles neces- 
sary to a company outfit. The word "necessary" is here 
used because all these things were so considered at that 
time. The camp-kettle, as indicated by its name, was a 
good and useful article of furniture when the troops were 
lying in camp, but did not figure largely in the long, active 
campaigns of the later years of the war. It was chiefly 
used for making coffee and bean soup, and for laundry 
purposes — for the soldiers had to boil their clothes the 
same as their mothers and sisters did the family wash, 
though for a different reason, which will appear in due 
time. 

The camp-kettle was an odd looking affair, of heavy 
sheet-iron, very tall, and of the same diameter from top to 
bottom. All were of the same height, but there were three 
or four sizes of them, so that they could be conveniently 
"nested " for transportation. They rapidly fell victims to 
the casualties of active service. Like everything else the sol- 
diers used or wore, they were "made by contract." Some 
of them soon became leaky from causes known only to the 
men who made them. The idea seemed to be paramount 
in the minds of those self-sacrificing patriots who helped to 
save the country by supplying the army with camp-kettles 
and other things, that if they made them so that they 
would not last long, there would be a speed}' demand for 
more, and this would make business brisk. Other camp- 
kettles had their usefulness impaired by various accidents to 
which thev were liable. Wag^ons ran over them, and the bovs, 



84 ^ ARMS AND AMMUNITION. 

in their mirthful moods, kicked them about the camp. On 
the whole, the camp-kettles had a hard time of it. During 
the last 3^eai of the war thousands of the soldiers did not 
so much as see one for months together. A little ingenuity 
and activity in foraging supplied substitutes that an- 
swered every purpose. 

Then came the event of the day. Half a dozen wagons 
drew up to the camp and the detail of men began to unload 
long heavy boxes that looked as if they were made to 
enclose coffins — an appearance not wholly inappropriate. 
They contained bright, new Springfield muskets for the 
200th Indiana. This arrival was greeted with an outburst 
of cheers, for the men were painfully conscious that as yet 
they were soldiers only in name. Without arms they did 
not amount to "a row of pins." 

More big boxes were tumbled out of the wagons. These 
contained the cartridge-boxes, waist and shoulder belts, 
cap-boxes, and other "traps" that went to make up the 
longlist of accouterments. One of the wagons was loaded 
with small boxes of about the capacity of a half-bushel 
measure. Si sprang forward to toss them out, but when 
he took hold of one he found it was as much as he could 
do to lift it. It fairly made his bones creak as he lowered 
it to the ground. It w^as full of ammunition — cartridges 
ready for use. 

Things now began to look like business, and the men 
moved about with the utmost eagerness. Rumors flew 
through the camp that the rebel army was close at hand 
and a conflict was hourly expezted. The members of the 
200th Indiana felt that if the impending battle could only 
bestavedoffvmtil they should get their guns and fill up their 
' 'pill-boxes" it would be all right. There could no longer 
be any doubt as to the result, and the band might at once 
begin to play. 

When Company Q's turn came it was marched up to 
headquarters, and in a few minutes each man was the 



WHY THE OFf'ICERS OF '61 WEPT. 85 

happy possessor of a brightly burnished musket and bay- 
onet, and all the accessories needful to complete his war- 
like array, including forty rounds of ammunition. To the 
regiment forty thousand cartridges were issued — enough to 
destroy the entire opposing army, provided they all went 
to the right spot. Little wonder that these valiant new 
soldiers believed that the end was now near at hand. 

The colonel superintended the distribution of the arms, 
and noted with pride the eagerness with which his men 
grasped their muskets and accouterments. He had no doubt 
that they would manifest equal promptitude in using them 
Avhen occasion required, and there passed before him visions 
of the glory that would cause the name of the 200th 
Indiana to shine with conspicuous luster. 

The captain of Company had to sign a receipt for the 
arms and equipments issued to his men, as he did for the 
tents and everything appertaining to the company's out 
fit. The officers who went out in '62 were wiser in their 
generation than those who took the field the year be- 
fore. They had the benefit of the latter's experience. It 
was on this wise: It was decreed in the "Revised Arm} 
Regulations" — a big blue-covered book, impressiveh' let- 
tered, that Avas both law and gospel to all who entered 
the army in any capacity — that the commanding officer of 
a company should, under all circumstances, be held strictly 
responsible for every penny's worth of government prop- 
erty in the possession of his men. Monthly returns of 
clothing and "camp and garrison equipage," as it was 
called in a lump, and quarterly returns of ordnance and 
ordnance stores had to be made to the Grand Moguls at 
Washington. In these returns ever^^thing in the wa}^ of 
baggage, down to a hatchet or a tent-pin, had to be ac- 
counted for, as well as every article in the line of ordnance, 
from a musket to a belt-plate. Even the tompions — tiny 
wooden plugs to stick into the muzzles of the guns and 
keep out the dust and rain, worth about two-for-a-cent— 



86 STRAINING AT GNATS. 

had to be momentously entered in the long columns <jf 
items and figures. If one of the little things disapj^eared 
it had to be accounted for, with an imposing array of cer- 
tificates and affidavits, as though the salvation of the 
country hung by a thread on the fate of that lost tompion. 
If he could not account for it in a way that was perfectly 
satisfactory to the high and mighty authorities at the 
National capital, he had to pay for it in cash. In collect- 
ing debts of this kind Uncle Sam "had the bulge" on the 
officer, by an overwhelming majority. He just sent the 
account to the paymaster, and that pompous officer 
promptly lopped off the amount from his pay. 

To the unsophisticated volunteer it did seem as though 
In thus holding him pecuniarily accountable for these paltiy 
things, through all the vicissitudes of war, our great and. 
glorious government was straining at very small gnats, 
while it was at the same time gulping down so many 
double-humped camels without a qualm. But it was 
"Regulations," and that settled it. The pains and pen- 
alties laid down in that terrible book were as inflexible as 
the law of the Medes and Persians, "which altereth not." 

The officers of '61 devoted themselves with commendable 
assiduity to "Hardee's Tactics," but they sadly neglected 
the "Regulations." At least they did not give such heed 
to its teachings as the welfare of their pockets required. 
The making of returns at stated periods w^as all well 
enough, they thought, for "Regulars," permanently^ sta- 
tioned in forts and barracks, but they did not for a 
moment imagine that such punctilious duties would be 
exacted of those who had left the plow, the bar, the 
counter, the office, for the sole purpose of putting down the 
rebellion. Whatever of government property disappeared 
was destroyed or lost in the service, any way, and the 
idea of their being compelled to pay for it was too prepos- 
terous to be entertained for a moment. So they pursued 
the even tenor of their way, trudging over the stony pikes 



UNCLE SAM AS "SHYLOCK." 87 

and leading tlieir men into battle, and didn't make any 
returns at all. 

But there came a day of rude awakening from their 
dreams of fancied security. In many cases the pay of the 
officers of an entire regiment was stopped, with the strict- 
est orders that the spigot in Uncle Sam's "bar'l" should 
not be withdrawn and the flow of money resumed until 
full returns from the beginning were made, as it was 
"nominatedinthebond." Shylockwas not more exacting 
in the demand for his "pound of flesh." The effect of an 
order of this kind from Washington was like that of an un- 
expected shell from a masked batter^'. It threw the officers 
who had commanded companies, into a convulsive state 
which continued for days and weeks, while they were try- 
ing to get themselves out of the snarl. By this time most 
of the companies had been reduced to half their original 
strength. Forty or fifty guns and their accouterments, 
and camp and garrison equipage in proportion, were gone, 
and not a scrap of writing to show for them. Many 
things had been worn out, and most of the guns had irreg- 
ularly found their way into the hands of ordnance officers 
from the hospitals where the men were left ; but these facts 
did not help them out of their dilemma, in the absence of 
receipts and other documentary evidence. It would have 
absorbed many an officer's pay for a year to square his 
accounts. 

This w^as v^here the swearing came in. The making of 
searching and comprehensive affidavits is the kind of swear- 
ing intended to be understood, although the widest pos- 
sible latitude may be given to the word in this connection 
without doing violence to the truth. In a case of this kind 
the orderly-sergeant was the captain's sheet anchor. His 
memory was taxed to the utmost, and, when its resources 
were exhausted, his imagination was drawn upon for ac- 
cidents and casualties that would account for the missing 



88 



HAPPINESS FOR SI KLEGG. 



property. Some of the affidavits almost blistered the 
paper upon \vhich they were written. 

When one officer had been continuously in command of 
a company and the same orderl}^ had stuck by him, time, 
patience and stationery only were necessary. But in the 
great majority of cases, through the casualties of disease 
and battle, two or three officers had successively com- 
manded, with perhaps as many different first sergeants at 

the wheel, and there was long 
floundering in the mire. In many 
instances it took months to get 
the accounts sufficiently straight- 
ened so that the paymaster pulled 
out the plug and again started 
the stream of greenbacks to irri- 
gate the well -parched pocket- 
books of the exasperated officers. 
Thousands will recognize this as 
a truthful picture of their experi- 
ence in learning Uncle Sam's rule 
that "business is business." 

When Si got back to his tent he 
could not rest until he had tried 
on the latest addition to his 
equipment. With Shorty's assist- 
ance he managed to get the vari- 
5ous parts together and buckled 
on his cartridge-box. Then he 
shouldered his musket and 
marched up and down the company street with a feeling 
of pride and satisfaction that he had never felt before. He 
wnshed his mother and Annabel could see him now. 

The bayonet was an object of peculiar interest to him. 
It was a savage-looking thing. He ran his fingers up and 
down its three fluted sides, touched its sharp point, and 
wondered if he could ever have the heart to stab anj^body 




IN PANOPLY OF WAR. 



THE BAYONET AS A THEORY. 



81) 



during 



with it. He finally concluded that lie could and would if 
he ever got a chance ; and then he "fixed " it on the muz- 
zle of his gun and charged around the camp, lunging at im- 
aginary foes in a manner highly suggestive of sanguinary 
results. Then he remembered that the rebels had bayonets, 
too, and he tried to imagine how it would feel to have one 
of them penetrate his anatomy. The bare thought of it 
made the cold shivers chase each other over his bod3\ 
A few random observations on the uses of the bayonet 
the w-ar, theo- 



retical and practical, 
may not be out of place 
here, even though they 
should, for the moment, 
carry our young de- 
fender of his country 
some distance ahead in 
his militar\' career. Si 
Klegg fully shared the 
popular delusion in re- 
gard to the devastation 
wrought by the bayo- 
net. He had an abiding 
faith in its efficacy as an 
aggressive weapon. His 
young blood had been 
curdled by reading har- 
rowing descriptions of baj^onet charges. He had seen 
pictures of long lines of gorgeously dressed soldiers ad- 
vancing upon the enemy w^ith their bayonets sticking out 
in front, and he imagined that when they reached the other 
fellows they just used their baj^onets like pitchforks, toss- 
ing about their unhappy foes as he had pitched pumpkins 
from a wagon. He thought this was the way fighting was 
done. There is no doubt that some bayonet wounds were 
given and received on both sides during the four 3'ears of 




WHAT SI EXPECTED TO DO WITH HIS 
BAYONET. 



90 THE FANCY DRILL. 

war. It would have been strange indeed if, with all those 
two or three million keen shafts, somebody did not get 
hurt. But the number of men \vho were "prodded" was 
small. There were many surgeons of large experience in 
field hospitals who never dressed a bayonet wound. 

None will deny the "moral force" of a well-directed 
bayonet charge. Providence gives to few men pluck 
enough — sufficient as to both quantity and qualit}' — to 
enable them to stand long in open field before the onward 
sweep of a compact, serried line, bristling with points of 
shining steel. An important factor is the unearthly yell 
that aWays accompanies the charge, or rather is a neces- 
sary part of it. A bayonet charge without a yell would be 
as incomplete as a dance without music. The yell itself 
was usually terrif)4ng enough to bleach the hair of an ordi- 
nary man. The combined effect was to greatly stimulate 
the natural impulse to break to the rear. So it was that 
only in very rare cases was the bayonet long enough to 
reach for purposes of blood-letting. 

Some companies with ambitious officers spent a great 
deal of time and perspiration in learning the picturesque 
"bayonet-drill." This drill was a French}^ affair — with its 
"jDarry" in "prime," "se-conde," "tierce" and "high 
quarte;" its "guard," "lunge, "and "blow with the butt;" 
Its "advance," "retreat," and "leap to the rear, kneel and 
over the head, parr^^" — that kept the men jumping around 
like so many animated frogs. It was a sort of gilt-edged 
drill and, like a ring in a Fiji Islander's nose, much more 
ornamental than useful. Companies that had become pro- 
ficient in this manual, used to give impressive exhibitions on 
Sundays and idle days, before admiring crowds of soldiers 
whose military education was defective in this respect. 
Perhaps they fight on these scientific principles in France, 
but in "our war" nobody ever heard any of these com- 
mands given in battle. An officer who attempted to put 
the drill into actual practice would have been sent to the 



"first blood." 91 

rear and clothed in a strait-jacket. The fanc\^ drill was 
as useless as a blanket to a Hottentot. 

But the bayonet was not by an^^ means a superfluous 
appendage. After Si Klegg got fairly started into the field 
his experience ripened rapidly. "Necessity is the mother 
of invention," and his daily needs constantly suggested 
new uses for the bayonet that were unknown to military 
tactics. 

The first blood that stained Si's bayonet was not that 
of a fellow-man. Company Q was on picket. Rations had 
been short for a week and his haversack was in a condition 
of emptiness that caused grave forebodings. Strict orders 
against foraging had been issued. Si couldn't quite get it 
straight in his head why the general should be so mighty 
particular about a few pigs and chickens and sweet pota- 
toes ; for he was really getting hungry, and when a man 
is in this condition he is not in a fit mood to grapple with 
fine-spun theories of governmental polic^^ 

So when a fat pig came wabbling and grunting toward 
his post, it was to Si like a vision of manna to the' children 
of Israel in the wilderness. ' A wild, uncontrollable desire 
to taste afresh spare-rib took possession of him. Naturally 
his first idea was to send a bullet through the animal, but 
the discharge of his piece would "give him away" at once. 
Then he thought of the bayonet, and the problem was 
solved. After a few strategic movements he got the pig 
into a corner and a vigorous thrust of the steel did the 
work silently and effectualh'. The pig made a good deal 
of noise, but a well directed blow with the butt of the gun 
silenced him forever. 

Si wrote to his mother that his bright new bayonet 
was stained with Southern blood, and the old lady shud- 
dered at the awful thought. "But," added Si "it wasn't 
a man I kild only jest a pig." 
"I'm so glad!" she exclaimed. 
By the time Si had been in the service a vear there was 



;)2 THE BAYONET IN PRACTICE. 

]ess zeal in the enforcement of orders of this kind, and he 
had become a very skiHful and successful forager. lie held 
still been unable to reach with his ba^-onet the body of a 
single one of his misguided fellow-citizens, but he had 
stabbed a great many pigs and sheep. In fact Si found his 
bayonet a most useful auxiliary. He could not well have 
got along without it. He often came into camp with a 




THE ACTUAL USES HE FOUND FOR IT. 

ham or a fresh " flitch " of bacon impaled on it. That wa? 
a convenient way to carry such things. 

Uncle Sam generally furnished Si with plenty of coffee- 
roasted and unground— but did not supply him with a 
coffee-mill. He thought at first that the Government had 
forgotten something. He saw that several of the old vet- 
erans of '61 had coffee-mills, but he found on inquiry xhat 
they had been obtained by confiscation. He determined 



THE ARMY CANDLESTICK. 93 

to supply himself at the first opportunity, but in the mean- ■ 
time he was obliged to use his bayonet as a substitute, just 
as all the rest of the soldiers did. This innocent use of the 
"cold steel" was universal. On going into bivouac, or 
halting for dinner during the day's march, about every 
other man squatted on the ground or knelt beside a log, 
and with the butt of his bayonet pounded up the kernels 
of coffee in a tin cup, spreading one hand over the top to 
prevent the escape of the pieces. True, the pulverizing was 
not as thoroughly done as if the berries had been run 
through a mill, but it was sufficient. 

Once in a while Si's mess ' * dre w " a candle, but the Regula- 
tions did not provide for any candlestick. The bayonet 
was an excellent substitute. It could not have been more 
"handy" if made for that particular purpose. The hol- 
low shank was always ready to receive the candle, 
while the point could be thrust into the ground or a log 
or cracker-box in an instant, and nothing more was neces- 
sary. This was one of the general spheres of usefulness 
found by the bayonet during the war. Barrels of candle- 
grease flowed down its furrowed sides for every drop of 
human blood that dimmed its luster. The soldiers had 
little to read, and it might be imagined that they had not 
much use for candles or candlesticks ; but it must be re- 
membered that there were millions of games of euchre and 
"old sledge" that had to be played, and it was necessary 
to have light enough so that a player could not with im- 
punity slip aces and "bowers" up the sleeve of his blouse, 
or "turn jack" from the bottom of the "deck." To pro- 
tect its brave defenders from these fraudulent practices was 
no doubt the object of the Government in issuing candles, 
as that was about all they were used for. Si found his 
bayonet a good thing to dig sweet potatoes with, and it 
answered well for a tent-pin in a sudden emergency. In 
many other ways it contributed to his well-being— but it 
was a longtime before he hurt anv rebels with it. 



CHAPTER VII. 

^"HE 2v0iH Indiana Draws Mules and Dress Coats and Closes the 
Day with a Dress-parade. 

4i T F 'twasn't fer one thing, Shorty," remarked Si, "I'd 
J[_ like ter drive one o' them ar' mule teams. I alius was 
a good hand at drivin' team, 'n' it 'd be big fun ter jest sit 
on a mule's back 'n' ride all the time. I never druv no 
mules, though I s'pose they're purty much same 's hosses. 
But ther' ain't no glory 'n bein' a mule-driver; he ain't no 
soljer. I reck'n somebody has to do it, but carr^'in' a gun 
's what I'hsted fer!" 

These patriotic observations were suggested by the 
arrival of the quota of wagons and mules for the 200th 
Indiana. The allowance of transportation had been greatly 
reduced since the previous year. In 1861 each company 
had its wagon, with three or four in addition to each 
regiment for headquarters" and general purposes. The 
wagon train of a division composed of a dozen regiments 
stretched out for miles. A ^-ear later only half as many 
were allowed, and the camp and garrison equipage and 
personal baggage of officers and men were proportionately 
reduced. 

The mules for the regiment might at this time have been 

properly classified as ' ' raw material. ' ' They were taken at 

random from the great government corral, led over to the 

camp, and delivered to the quartermaster. Then the men 

who had been enlisted or detailed as "wagoners" began 

the work of organizing their teams. 

94 



SOLID COMFORT. 90 

Most of the mules that were braying and exercising their 
heels in the camp of the 200th Indiana ^vere as raw as the 
men. Few of them had yet been broken to harness, and 
they resented in the most vigorous manner the least ap- 
proach to familiarit3\ Coaxing, beating and swearing 
were alike fruitless. The adventures of the teamsters in 
trjnng to educate those depraved and obdurate mules into 
a state of docility, afforded a rich entertainment to a large 
and appreciative audience. 

After protracted effort they succeeded in getting the 
refractory animals geared up, and the wagons were dis- 
patched to the city after the baggage the men had brought 
from Indiana. The trip was only made through much 
tribulation, but they finally got back with all the boxes 
and barrels and "gripsacks" that contained the home 
contributions to the outfit of the regiment. The colonel 
thought it would do no harm to humor the boys and let 
them have these things while they lay in camp. 

Si was delighted to get his box. Shorty did not have 
anything except what he had drawn from the government, 
but Si had enough for both. They fixed up their part of 
the tent in a style that ^vas regal magnificence compared 
with their condition the night before. Thej'builta "bunk" 
a foot high out of the rails they had purloined from the 
interdicted fence, and their abundant supply of blankets 
and quilts made a luxurious couch. 

"Now this 's reel nice 'n' humlike," said Si to his com- 
rade, as he surveyed the result of their labors. "'Twas 
kind o' discouragin'last night, but now we've had a chance 
ter git things fixed, I don't see nothin' ter growl 'bout. 
Ye know we'll take all these things Tong 'th us when we 
go anywhere, 'n' I'm goin' ter sheer 'em 'th you. Shorty. 
We'll have a bully tim^!" 

Shorty thanked him for his kind offer but made no fur- 
ther reply. He had a pretty correct idea of what would 



96 



THE DRESS COAT. 



be the early fate of all the nice things Si's friends had given 
him. 

During the afternoon, Company Q was ordered to fall 

in, and the orderly marched it up to the quartermaster's 

tent. Si wondered what they were going to get this time. 

"Now, men, git into them coats," said the orderly. 

"Them coats" were the regulation "dress coats," the 

only thing necessary to complete their 

wardrobes. 

The dress coat was another of the de- 
lusions of the war. It was a close, 
tight-fitting garment, with an impres- 
sive row of brass buttons extending up 
to the chin, and a stiff standing collar 
that rasped the ears, save when an un- 
usually long neck lifted those append- 
ages to a safe height. The sleeves were 
small and left little freedom of motion 
to the arms. This coat, as its name 
indicates, was to be worn on state occa- 
sions. In the early part of the war it 
was considered as indispensable at dress- 
parade, inspection or review as a claw- 
hammer coat at a swell dinner. Of 
course, when worn, every button must 
be in its button-hole. A company looked 
as stiff as a row of statues. When the 
THE "sweat-box." mcrcury was up in the nineties it was a 
terrible sweat-box. Not a breath of air could reach the 
sweltering body. 

When the hot work of the war came the dress coat had 
to go, except among the troops which were permanently 
stationed at posts in the rear. On«a "shelter-tent" cam- 
paign inspections and reviews were unheard of, and the 
soldiers were wise enough to follow the injunction given 
the apostles, to "provide neither two coats" — the over- 




PREYING ON THE NEW SOLDIERS. 97 

coat being excepted. For all ordinary wear the blouse 
was the garment that filled the bill. On the first hard 
march the dress-coats disappeared rapidly. They were 
recklessly flung away to lighten knapsacks and ease 
aching shoulders, or were traded off to the negroes for 
chickens and other eatables. 

But Si thought it was a splendid thing. He succeeded 
in getting one with about the right length of sleeve, but 
owing to his tendenc}^ to corpulence, it was a very tight 
squeeze to get it buttoned. When he had accomplished it 
he felt as if he had a sheet-iron coat riveted around him. 
His eye followed down the row of shining buttons with its 
graceful swell and the blue-corded seams, and he thought 
it was the nicest coat he had ever seen. He only lacked 
the shoulder-straps to look like an officer. 

Shorty smiled at Si's enthusiasm. He drew one of the 
coats only because he had to ; he did not want it, and 
mentally resolved that he would get rid of it at the first 
opportunity. 

The camp of the 200tli Indiana swarmed with venders 
of medicines, razors, coffee-pots, tin and sheet-iron ware, 
underclothing, combs and an endless variety of useless 
things which they labored to convince the new soldiers 
were indispensable to them. Most of the men were well 
supplied with money, which they spent lavishly. Of course 
they wanted to take the field in good shape, prepared to 
make themselves as useful as possible, and they fell an easy 
pre\^ to the jjeddlers, who did a thriving business. 

Si was determined to be thoroughly equipped and proved 
a good customer. He bought a frying-pan and a patent 
coffee-pot warranted to make as delectable a beverage as 
he ever drank at home. These he was sure he would need. 
For some time he had observed, with emotions of pleasure, 
that his face was beginning to show symptoms of a hairy 
growth, marking the threshold of manhood. He had said 
nothing about it at home because, like all other boys, he 



98 THE DELUSIVE BREASTPLATE. 

was ashamed of it. But he was sure he would need a 
razor before he got back, and so he bought a complete 
shaving apparatus. He would carry it along until he 
should find occasion to use it. 

At length a man made his appearance with a wonderful 
life-saving contrivance. It was a breastplate of steel » 
shaped to fit the contour of the bod3% to be worn under the 
clothing when in battle, as a protection against bullets. It 
was suggestive of the armor worn by knights in the olden 
time. The vender expatiated with great eloquence and 
pathos upon the merits of this concern. He said it was 
a duty that every man owed to himself, to his family and 
to his country to buy one. It was better than a life insur- 
ance policy. "You can jest wall: right through a brigade 
o' rebels and they can't phaze ye!" 

"Will — will she stop cannon balls?" asked Si, who had 
listened with keen interest to the graphic portrayal of its 
virtues, and had put one under his blouse to see how it 
would fit. 

"It might, but I can't say for sartin, as I've never tried 
it. I rayther think, my young friend, that if a cannon ball 
hits 3'e fair an' square you're a goner. But it's the bullets 
as does most o' the mischief, an' it'll turn them like a 
duck's back sheds water. Jest think, young man, how 
much more contented yer mother 'd beif sheknowed ye had 
one o' these life-savers." 

The dekisive idea was not a little captivating, and Si 
really believed it was a good thing. He would have 
bought one but for a veteran soldier who was standing by. 

"They ain't no good," he said. "A lot of our boys got 
fooled on 'em. Most on 'em was thro wed away 'fore we ever 
got near a fight. When we did strike a battle a few wore 
'em in, but some on 'em got killed jest the same. The bul- 
lets went right through them things. The other fel- 
lers made so much fun o' them that wore 'em, for bein* 
cowards, that they flung 'em away and that's the last 



A SLIGHT MISUNDERSTANDING. 99 

we ever seen on 'em. Ye'll be wastin' yer money if ye 
buy it." 

The idea that fear was the principle underlying the use 
of the breastplate settled the question with Si. He had 
not thought of that. He declined to purchase, telling the 
man that he guessed he was not afraid to go in and tal-'e 
his chances along with the rest. He didn't believe the 
rebels had them, and it wouldn't be hardly fair, anywa}'. 
Some of them were bought by members of the 200th, but 
the only use ever made of them was as a substitute for 
frying-pans. 

Among the numerous devices to catch the money of the 
soldiers, a few were really valuable. One of these, which 
will be kindly remembered by many, was an ingenious 
combination of knife, fork and spoon, which, when not 
in use, could be folded up into small compass and car* 
ried in the haversack or pocket. The novel contrivance 
pleased Si and he bought one, although his mother had 
fitted him out with cutler}'. It turned out to be the best 
of all his investments, doing him good service long after 
the pretty knife and fork his mother gave him had gone 
the way of all things in the army. 

"Fall in, Company Q, lively, in undress uniform!" 

Toward evening this command of the orderly startled 
the company. Si rushed into his tent, threw off his blouse, 
and was making further hasty efforts to disrobe, when 
Shorty entered. 

"Whatonarth ar' ye doin', Si?" he said. '"Taint no 
time ter be goin' ter bed ! Anybody'd think yq was crazy." 

"Mebbe I didn't understand the ord'ly jest right, "replied 
Si; "but I thought he said we was to come out'n undress 
uniform, 'n' I didn't know what that meant 'less it was 
ter take our clothes off. It did seem kind o' queer, but 
orders is orders, 'n' I didn't stop ter ax no questions." 

"You git into yer clothes agin !" said Short}^ as he threw 
himself upon the bunk almost bursting with laughter. 



100 



SHORTY LAUGHS AT SIS EXPENSE. 



"Oh, Si, but that's a good joke on ye!" and Shorty rolled 
over and over in a paroxysm of merriment. 

"I don't see nothin' ter laugh at," said Si. "I was only 
tryin' the best I knew how ter do v^hat the ord'ly said." 

"Ye wants ter scratch gravel, 'cause the comp'ny 's 
formin'. I hain't got time now ; but I'll 'splain it toyearter 
a while." And Shorty went off into another spasm. 

"I sh'd think it was you that's crazy," said Si, as he 
put on his blouse. He was a little piqued that his comrade 

should be so mirthful 
at his expense, particu- 
larly \vhen he was so 
thoroughly conscious of 
the rectitude of his mo- 
tives. 

Si and Shorty hurried 
to their places in the 
compan}^ just as the 
orderly was getting 
ready to yell at them 
for being behind. The 
/I -=^ captain told the men 
that there was to be 
a dress-parade of the 
' ■ regiment that evening, 
and he was very desir- 
A LITERAL INTERPRETATION. ous that Cottipany Q 

should make a creditable showing. He hoped each man 
would feel a pride in his personal appearance and have 
his hair combed, his clothes brushed, and his shoes nicely 
l)lackened. He wanted to show the.rust}^ old veterans 
how soldiers ought to keep themselves. 

As Si walked back to the tent with Shorty, he thought of 
the episode a few minutes before but said nothing. He 
realized that he had misinterpreted the orderl^^'s command, 
and seemed disposed to drop the subject. But Short}^ felt 




PREPARING FOR DRESS-PARADE. 101 

that he ought to enlighten him and he said, while Si be- 
gan to brush his shoes : 

"When ye puts on the Sunday-go-to-meetin' coat with 
the long row o' brass buttons, 't ye drawed fm the quar- 
termaster a little bit ago, they calls that yer 'dress 
i.niform.' 'Undress uniform' 's when ye wear jest j^er every- 
day duds. Now d'ye understand what I was laughin' at? 
I'm sorry Si, but I couldn't help it 'f I was to ha' been shot 
ferit!" "^ 

"That's all right, pard," said Si, "I'd ha' laughed my- 
self 'f I'd knowed what you did. A feller what ain't used 
ter these things can't larn 'em all in a minit. Ef the ord'ly 
wanted us ter wear our blouses wh}' didn't he sa^- so. 
How sh'd I know that 'undress' didn't mean the same 'n 
the army reggelations 's it does to hum. That day I 'listed 
the doctor made me shuck myself, 'n' I s'posed this was 
goin' ter be some such a pufformance as that. I reck'n 
I'll be larnin' suthin' new almost every day fer quite a 
spell." 

"Shouldn't wonder 'f ye would," said Shorty. 

At the hour appointed the call was sounded for dress- 
parade. It was the first attempt the 200th Indiana had 
made at anything in the line of tactics. There had not yet 
been an hour's drill, but the officers thought they could 
manage to get their men out to the line in some way. The 
colonel wanted to put his command on exhibition, that 
the old soldiers inight see \vhat a large, fine regiment he 
had. He thought the veterans must be getting a good 
deal discouraged by this time, and the sight of such a 
reinforcement would cheer them up. 

The regimental flags, fresh and new, with their bright 
stripes and gleaming stars, were stationed on the color- 
line, and "markers" with fluttering guidons were posted 
on either flank to direct the formation. The drum-major, 
arrayed like Solomon in all his glory, with a towering 
shako on his head, and fantastically twirling and bobbing 



102 



THE LORDLY DRUM-JVIAJOk. 



his gilded and tasseled baton, marched the band to Its 
place at the right of the line. 

Many of the veteran regiments had outgrown such 
frivolities as dress-parades, and only indulged in them at 
long intervals. Just now their external appearance was 
so shabby for lack of clothes, that a dress-parade would 

have been a painful spec- 
tctcle. So the ragged vet- 
erans turned out by hun- 
dreds to give the new 
regiment a good send-off, 
bent on getting out of the 
displa\' all the fun they 
could. The lordly drum- 
major drew their fire in a 
|way that made him feel 
as if he would like to have 
the ground open under his 
feet and let him drop in 
out of sight. 

"Hello, Gineral, when's 
the army goin'to move?" 
"Howly Saint Path- 
rick, but did yez iver see 
the loikes av the wa3' he 
handles that shillaly ! 
Give us a chune, will 
;?" 

"Stand back, boys, an' 
THE DRUM-MAJOR. mve 'im room. Here 

comes the boss of all creation ! " 

The drum-mxajor could hardly be blamed for wishing he 
hadn't come. Up in Indiana, when, on public occasions 
he appeared in magnificent pomp, he had always received 
an ovation from the admiring populace who gazed upon 
him with the profoundest awe, wondering how one man 




yez 



THE TROUBLE BEGINS. 103 

could hold so much dignity. He thought these scoffing 
veterans must belong to some different branch of the 
human family. 

Throughout the camp of the 200th all was confusion 
as the companies were formed for the momentous event. 
The men were imprisoned in their new dress-coats, and, 
with their shining muskets and clean, new accouterments, 
presented an appearance at once both attractive and war- 
like. They looked more like soldiers than at any previous 
time in their as 3^et brief military career. 

Si Klegg was promptly in his place. His make-up was 
iaultless. His face was clean, his shoes were nicely pol- 
ished, and around his neck was a new paper collar. He 
seemed to be well satisfied with himself, as he had a right 
to be. It is true he had slipped his cartridge-box on his 
belt upside down, and had his bayonet-scabbard on the 
wrong side; but these little irregularities were quickly cor- 
rected when his attention was called to them by one of 
the file-closers. 

The captain talked to the men in a fatherl}^ way, ex- 
pressing the hope that they would carry themselves like 
soldiers, and reminding them that the eyes of the veterans 
would be upon them. His faith was a little shaky as to 
the appearance they would make when in motion. He 
thought that if he could only get them out to the color- 
line, they would be all right. 

"Attention, company ! Right — Face ! " The captain had 
been studying up a little and had learned a few simple 
commands. 

The men faced to all pointsof the compass, but the officers 
and sergeants at length got them headed the right way. 
They did not know anything about "doubling up" yet. 
In fact the captain was not very clear about it himself, and 
he thought it wise to move the company "in two ranks." 
" Forward— March ! " 
The fife squeaked and the drum rattled and away went 



104? SIKLEGO MAKES A SLIP. 

Company Q. Alost of the men had a theory that they 
must step with the beat of the drum, but there was a lack 
of uniformity in carrying it into practice. Part of them 
who happened to start that way properly brought down 
the left foot at the accented beat ; some had the right foot 
— which was the wrong one — to the drum ; while others, 
who seemed to have no music in their soles, just tramped 
along as though they w-ere going to mill, \vithout any 
reference to the measure. 

"Left! — Left! — Left!" exclaimed the captain sharpl}^ 
stamping his left foot on the ground to give force to the 
word. "Get the step there, men ! " 

"Getting the step," \vas an easier thing for the tongue 
to sa}^ than for unlearned feet to do. In the effort to 
"change step " Si had a hard time of it. He hopped along 
and stumbled, and kicked the shins of the man behind him 
and the calves of the one in front, finally settling do\vn 
again into the same step with which he started. 

"Hayfoot — Strawfoot! Ha^'foot — Strawfoot " shouted 
the iniquitous veterans as Company Q's v/riggling laby- 
rinth of legs came in sight. 

"He\% young feller, take off that 'ere paper collar an' 
tie it 'round your left leg so 's ye can learn to march ! " 

Si kncAv intuitively that he was the person at whom the 
harrowing gibe was aimed. His young spirit rebelled and 
his tonjjue grot the better of him before he could curb its 
impatience. 

"You fellers thinks ye're smart, but if I " 

Whatever may have been the dreadful thought of retri- 
bution in Si's mind, its utterance was suddenly cut off, for 
the captain came down on him like a thunderbolt. 

"Don't you know, sir, that you must not talk in ranks? 
I'll teach 3^ou in a way that you'll remember. Orderly, 
have Klegg put through an hour's knapsack drill as soon 
as the parade is dismissed — no, I guess half an hour will 
do for the first time. See that the job is well done." 



si's sore distress. 105 

"Yes, sir," replied the orderly, although he had no idea 
what a "knapsack drill" was. The anger and stern words 
of the captain had a crushing effect upon poor Si. He grew 
white and red by turns with shame and mortification, 
wondering, meanwhile, what the dire punishment was that 
he had been sentenced to undergo. 

"Shorty," he said in a tremulous whisper, after the com- 
pany had got into line, "what's knapsack drill? " 

"Don't ax me," replied his comrade, "ye'll find out if 
Cap. don't weaken!" It was only by great effort that 
Shorty suppressed a laugh. 

So Si stood there, pale and trembling, while the band 
played " Hail Columbia " down the line and came skipping 
back to the liveh- strains of "The Girl I Left Behind Me." 
This tune drove the iron deep into Si's suffering soul. 
Suppose Annabel could see him while he was going through 
that knapsack drill — whatever it was ! He w^ould ask the 
boys not to write home anything about it. 

Then the adjutant marched from the right flank down 
to the colors and out to within a few paces of the colonel 
who was standing with folded arms like a brass-mounted 
statue. Then he faced about and gave the order : 

' ' Battalion ! Present — Arms ! ' ' 

The adjutant had "skipped" opening the ranks according 
to the tactics, because few of the officers and fewer still of the 
men understood the movement. For a similar reason the 
men had stood with their muskets at a "shoulder" — in the 
tactics of more moderndays known as a "carry" — because 
in this position they could not well help holding them in a 
uniform way. The colonel Avas so apprehensive of chaos 
if the "order arms" and "parade rest" were attempted 
that he had directed their omission from the program. 

But the "present arms" could not be left out of a dress- 
parade. The colonel's heart sank as the adjutant gave the 
command. The result fully justified his fears. The captains 
har\ been ordered to instruct their men how to do it before 



lOQ THE DRESS-PARADE. 

marching out to the color-hne, but in the hurry and excite- 
ment most of them had forgotten it. It took about five 
minutes to get all the guns into the prescribed position. 

Then the adjutant faced about, saluted the colonel, and 
told him the parade was formed ; and the colonel looked as 
though he were glad of it, after it had taken so long to do 
it. 

The orderly sergeants, who had been carefully "coached " 
b}' the sergeant-major, massed in the center of the line, 
charged upon the adjutant, and informed him that the 
men of their respective companies were "all present or 
accounted for." Thes^ returned to their posts and the 
officers executed a similar movement, marching up to 
within speaking distance of the colonel, where they hahed 
and made a profound salute. The colonel congratulated 
them upon the fine appearance of their men. He told them 
that drilling would begin at once, and he hoped no effort 
would be spared to bring the 200tli Indiana up to the 
highest state of efficiency for active service. The parade 
was dismissed, and the orderly sergeants piloted their com 
panics back to their respective grounds as besi-. they could 

Si Klegg had taken verv little interest in the solemn pro- 
ceedings His thoughts were centered on the knapsack 
drill. He hoped the captain and the ordeilj'' would forged- 
all about it — but they didn't. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

In which Si is Disciplined by a "Knapsack Drill," and Gets Even 
WITH THE Orderly, but Suffers in Consequence. 

4 i 'V 1 OW, Klegg," said the orderly, as soon as Company 
L^ Q had broken ranks, "git yerself ready. Yeknow 
what the captain said." 

"I dunno — what ye want — me ter do!" said Si, who 
could hardly have felt worse- if he had been ordered to l^e 
shot. 

The orderly didn't know, either, but he went and asked 
the captain, who in a few words explained to him the mys- 
teries of a knapsack drill. 

"And detail a guard, orderly," he said, "to see that the ' 
young rascal keeps moving." 

Returning, the orderly found Si sitting on the edge of 
his bunk, Avith his face buried in his hands — a picture of 
despair. The orderU^ considerately remai'ked that he was 
sorry for him, "but I can't help it, ye know." 

Si said it was all right, he guessed he would live through 
it. 

"'Tain't nothin' Si," said Shorty, "lots on 'em has ter 
do it. Mebbe ye'U be a bit tired 'fore ye git done, but 
'twon't hurt ye an v." 

Si arose with the air of a malefactor about to start for 
the scaffold, and in a subdued voice remarked that he was 
ready. 

"Empty out 3'er knapsack!" said the orderly. 

107 



108 THE KNAPSACK DRILL. 

Si took out all his things and piled them on his bunk. 
Shorty said he would take care of them till he came back. 

"Now pick 'er up and come on !" 

The orderly led the way and Si meekly followed, nerving 
himself for the trial. It was the first case of discipline in 
the company, and all the boys turned out to see the 
sport. A little way from the camp was a pile of old 
bricks. Thither the orderly bent his steps, and as he 
stopped beside the heap an idea of what a knapsack drill 
was flashed across Si's mind. 

"Fill up yer knapsack with them bricks!" said the or- 
derly. 

If the orderly had been the person responsible for this 
indignity, Si would probabl}' have knocked him down. 
As it was he began slowly to lay in the bricks, registering 
a vow that he would keep a sharp lookout for a chance to 
square accounts with the ca.ptain. 

It would tajce a large volume to hold all the oaths of 
vengeance that were made under similar circumstances 
during the war. A page would contain all of them that 
were ever carried out. 

When Si had stowed away four or five of the bricks he 
looked up appealingly at the orderly, as if to inquire 
whether they were not sufficient to appease the demands of 
justice and the wrath of the captain. 

"That ain't more'n half full. He said to fill 'er as full as 
she'd hold." 

"I didn't 'list ter be a hod-carrier, "said SI. "Ef Iwanted 
a job o' that kind I c'd git it 'thout comin' this fur huntin' 
arter it!" 

"Now buckle 'er up," said the orderl}^ after Si had laid 
in a few more. "I reck'n ye can't sling 'er alone. Here, a 
couple o' you men, give him a lift!" 

The knapsack with its hateful load was lifted upon Si's 
shoulders and the straps duly secured. Then the orderly 
escorted him back to the company street . 



SI ENTERTAINS THE BOYS 



109 



''March up and down here for thirty minutes," said the 
orderly, taking out his watch, "an' je^W have to keep 
goin', too, 'cause the guard '11 stick ye with his bay'net if 
ye don't. I'll let ye know when the time 's up." 

Si began his tramp, and the orderh' detailed a guard 
who, with fixed ba^^onet, was instructed not to permit the 
culprit to stop for a single moment. The captain had im- 
pressed upon the orderly the necessity of carr^'ing out his 
orders to the letter, 
as it \vould have a 
salutary effect upon 
the compan}'. 

Si had already be- 
come a favorite 
among his com- 
rades, and there was 
a universal feeling of 
sympathy for him in 
the hour of his ca- 
lamity. A few rude 
jests were ventur- 
ed, but they were 
promptly rebuked. 
It was not long till 
his shoulders began 
1o ache, but he ut- 
tered not a word 
of complaint. He 
was determined to 
show his grit, and 
patiently trudged to and fro, leaning forward more and 
more as the burden grew heavier, until his penance was 
done. Once the captain came out, viewed the scene with 
satisfaction for a minute or two, and then returned to his 
tent. Si would have given a month's pay for the privil- 
ege of making him shoulder that knapsack full of bricks. 




si's first penance. 



110 AN IDLE VOW OF VENGEANCE. 

He would volunteer to serve as the guard, and he would 
do his duty "right up to the handle." 

Shorty had stayed in the tent while his "pard "was pay- 
ing the penalty of his "conduct prejudicial to good order 
and military discipline," not desiring to witness his humil- 
iation. "Hello, Si," he exclaimed, as the latter entered and 
threw himself upon the bunk to rest. 

"Ef I don't fix the cap'n for this, one o' these days!" said 
Si. 

"Oh, no, ye won't do no sich a thing," replied Shorty. 
"The boys always sa^^s that, but they mosth^ fergits it 
the next day. Sich things has ter be did in the army — • 
leastwise the ossifers thinks they does. But my notion is 
that Cap. piled it onto you purty heavy fur the little mis- 
take ye made. He mout ha' knowed ye didn't mean no 
harm." 

"I s'pose Hwan't jest 'cordin' to Hoyle fer me ter sing 
out the way I did, but them fellers was mighty aggravatin', 
*n' I couldn't help it. It hollered itself." 

"Ye don't want ter fergit " said Shorty, " 't them's the 
same boys 't gin us that coffee yisterdy." 

"That coffee, "replied Si, "likesuthin' I used to read 'bout 
'n the Bible, 'covers a multitude o' sins,' but seems ter me 
they mout be a leetle more civil like." 

Si lay for a few minutes and thought of the ludicrous 
features of the case. 

"It was funny, wasn't it. Shorty," he said, bursting 
into a laugh, "anyhow, I'd ha' thought it was ef some 
other feller 'd had ter do it. The idee o' marchin' out there 
with a knapsack full o' bricks onmy back!" 

" That's a fack," answered Shorty, "but 'tain'tapatchin' 
ter what thc}^ does ter them that's reel ugly ; and there's 
some o' the soljers that's chuck full o' the old Nick. Ye'll 
have ter eddicate jer tongue a leetle, Si, er it'll git ye inter 
wuss trouble 'n this. You're used ter alius sayin' jest what 



A CAMP DIVERSION. 



Ill 



Y€ think, but ye can't do it in the army— that is ye can ef 
ve want ter, but it don't pay." 

After supper Si got permission to visit the camp of one 
of the old regiments not far away, to see some of his friends 
who had enhsted the year before. The veterans were hav- 
ing a froHc. Si elbowed his way into a crowd in the cen- 
ter of which a dozen men were standing around an out- 
stretched blanket, wnth their hands firmly grasping its 
edsres. He stood for a moment, with his hands in his 
trousers' pockets, wondering what it all meant. Then he 
ventured to ask one of the spectators what the^^ were 
doing. 

" 0, jest havin' a little sport !" was the answer. 
"I'd like ter know, "said Si, "whar'sthe fun in them fellers 
stan'in'like so many stoughton-bottleshangin' on ter that 
blanket, 'n' the crowd jest lookin' at em' ! Mebbe its fun 
but I can't see it." 

"Keep 3^er eye on that blanket 'bout five seconds an' 
p'r'aps yell see suthin' wuth lookin' at!" 

The veteran drew back a step and winked to one or two 
of his comrades. Seizing Si by the legs they pitched him 
over, a helpless heap, upon the blanket. There was a quick 
outward pull in all directions upon the edges of the blanket 
which straightened it suddenly and he went up four or 
five feet in the air. The tension was relaxed for an instant 
as he came down. Then with a fiei.dish delight the men 
braced their feet, swaying their bodies outward, and theii 
victim bounded up, with sprawling limbs, higher than be- 
fore. Powerless to help himself in the slightest degree, he 
was wholly at the mercy of the barbarians. 

"0-o-o-oh !— Ou-ou-ouch ! Sa-a-ay ! Hold on ! Don't 
k-k-kill a feller ! " 

Si was not suffering any serious personal damage, but 
never before had he been so badly frightened. 

He yelled and begged and pleaded, while the tossers and 
the bystanders screamed in their enjoyment of the scene. 



112 



SI LEARNS SOMETHING SUDDENLY. 



They bounced him in the air a dozen times and then released 
him. Flushed, trembling and breathless, he hardly knew for 
a while whether he was standing on his feet or on his head. 
None found a more genuine pleasure in the spectacle than a 
few raw soldiers who, having just been "tossed" them- 
selves, shouted over the discomfiture of other victims. 




'-7 '■"•-'V7 ""^ — 

VETERANS OX A FROLIC. 

Si was pretty thoroughly shaken up, but finding that he 
was not hurt soon recovered his composure. 

"Do ye understand it now?" asked the veteran. 

Si replied that he believed he did. The information he 
sought had come to him with a suddenness and complete- 
ness that fully satisfied his curiosity. 

"An' d^-^e see now whar the fun comes in?" 



SI MAKES A BARGAIN. 113 

**Ya-a-a-s!" said Si, with a feeble attempt to smile. 
'• 'Feared like 'twas big fun — fer you fellers !" 

"Ye know when ye jines a serciety , ' ' said the veteran, ' ' ye 
has ter be 'nishiated. This is how we 'nishiates the boys 
that jines the army." 

"Say, pard," remarked Si, scratching his head reflect- 
ively, as a remembrance of the knapsack drill flitted across 
his mind, "I'd like ter have a lot o' ye come over to the 
200th Injiann}'' 'n' 'nishiate the cap'n 'n' ord'h'of Comp'ny 
Q. I dunno anybody 't needs it wuss 'n they does. Ill let 
ye have my blanket ter go through the cerrymom^" 

"We has ter go kind o' light on the officers, but if wehad 
the orderly here we'd fix 'im." 

"Thar he comes now, true's I'm alive," said Si, as a little 
squad of men approached the scene of hilarity. 

Sure enough, there was the executive officer of Company 
Q sauntering over to make a friendly call. 

"Got a grudge agin the orderly? ' asked the veteran. 

"I'll tell ye how 'twas. I s'pose ye know what a knap- 
sack drill is?" 

"Reck'n I ought ter. Been through it times 'nough." 

"That's what I thought, "said Si. "Wall, this arternoon, 
'twan't nothin' ter speak oft I done, but the cap'n got 
mad 'n' said I'd have to be put through a knapsack drill. 
The ord'ly he bossed the job 'n' made me fill my knapsack 
clear full o' bricks. Now ye know why I'd like ter see 'em 
'nishiated. I'd a leetle ruther it'd be the cap'n, but the 
ord'ly '11 do. I'll jest give ye five dollars, cash down, ef ye'U 
bounce him." 

"Hand over 3^er spondulix. I'll give it back to ye ef we 
don't give him the liveliest tossin' he ever had." 

Si was as good as his wor^^, and at once placed a five 
dollar bill in the veteran's ready hand. 

" 'Tain't counterfeit, I reck'n? " 

"No, sirP' said Si, with some asperity. 



Hi HE GETS THE WORTH OF HIS MONEY. 

"All right, that's a bargain. Now ye'll see some reel fun 
d'reckly." 

The orderly entered the crowd and pushed to the front 
to see what was going on. He was just as ignorant as Si 
had been of the dark ways of the old soldiers. The latter 
were no respecters of persons who did not wear shoulder- 
straps, and the bright chevrons of a "green " first sergeant 
afforded the wearer no protection. 

Watching their opportunity they tipped over the orderly 
into the blanket, and in an instant he was kicking and 
clawing as he bounded and rebounded into the air. 

Si la}^ down and rolled over and screamed with delight. 
No financial investment he ever made had paid him such 
enormous and immediate dividends as did that five dollar 
bill. When he got back to camp he told Shorty about it. 
Both agreed that as between Si and the orderly the account 
was balanced. 

The story of the five dollars was too good to keep. The 
veteran immediately told it to his comrades, and the 
orderly got wind of it. No sooner had the latter returned 
to his company than he learned that one of the camp- 
guards had been taken suddenly ill and it was necessary 
to detail a man to fill the vacancy. 

"Klegg you'll have to go on guard right off, so git your 
traps on quick !'' he said as he stuck his head into the tent 
v^here Si and Shorty were still laughing over the affair of 
the blanket. 

"How d'ye figger it bein' my turn, ord'ly ?" asked Si in 
surprise. "When ye made the detail fer guard to-day ye 
only jest got through the B's. K didn't come next after 
B 'n my spellin' book. They must have a diff runt kind o' 
alfybet 'n the army." 

"You do as I tell ye, an' be smart about it, too, or I'll 
report ye to the cap'n, an' he 11 give ye 'nother dose. Ye'll 
have to put in more bricks next time than ye did to-day." 

"Oh, that's all right, ord'ly," said Si, springing to his 



THE ORDERLY SCORES ANOTHER. 115 

feet and displaying the utmost alacrity in getting himself 
into harness, "I was only jokin'. I'd jest 's lief go on 
guard 's not. Got ter begin sometime. I'll be ready 'n a 
minute." 

"Si," said Shorty, after the orderly had gone, "d'ye 
spose he heerd anything bout yer givin' that chap five dol- 
lars to bounce 'im?" 

Si gave a long, low whistle. "I wouldn't ha' thought that 
feller 'd go back on me that wa3^" 

"Looks 's if he did" said Shorty, "I shouldn't wonder 
'f that's the reason why the ord ly jumped from B to K. 
I guess he's a leetle ahead arter all." 

Si really had little objection to going on guard. The 
weather was pleasant, and he was constantly hungering 
and thirsting after new experiences. In fact this was the 
first time he had been called upon to do duty in any mili- 
tary capacity, and it was with sensations of pride and 
satisfaction that he shouldered his musket and marched 
to the headquarters of the guard, to take the place of a 
man who had been doubled up by the colic. At last he was 
going to do something to help save the country. He could 
hardly wait till his "trick" began. His turn would not 
come till midnight, but he dared not go to sleep forfear they 
would forget to wake him. 

"Second relief, fall in!" shouted the sergeant of the 
guard. 

Si was prompt to respond, and a moment later the 
squad was on its way around the line, each guard, as he 
was relieved, falling in at the rear of the squad. 

When the guards Avere detailed early in the day — for 
twenty-four hours, each man being on beat two hours out 
of six — they had been instructed as to their duties, and an 
extract from the articles of war was impressively read to 
them, in which was set forth the fact that death was the 
awful penalty for sleeping on post. Si had heard nothing 
of this, so that he unfortunately^ went on duty with only 



116 SI RECEIVES THE "GRAND ROUNDS." 

a foggy notion that walking to and fro on his beat was 
all there- \v as of it. He got an idea of the ceremony of re- 
lieving a guard from seeing it a few times, and when he 
was given the countersign and duly posted, with his bay- 
onet fixed and his gun at a right-shoulder-shift, he felt 
that he had reall}- entered upon the work of putting do\vn 
the rebellion. He did so with a determination that so far 
as Si Klegg was concerned the war should be vigorously 
prosecuted. 

Just before the sergeant left him to meet the "Who 
comes there? " of the sentinel on the next beat, he cautioned 
him to be alert and vigilant, as the "grand rounds" 
would soon visit him. Si had not the faintest idea what 
the "grand rounds" was. He first thought he would 
ask the sergeant, but he did not like to expose his igno- 
rance and concluded to wait and learn. Whatever it was, 
he felt fully competent to give it a warm reception. 

The "grand rounds" was usually composed of an offi- 
cer, a sergeant, and two privates. Its function was to 
take a trip around the entire line, to see that the guards 
were attentive to their duties. It generally started soon 
after midnight. Of course at the regular time all the sen- 
tinels were watchful, zealous and full of business. Some- 
times the officer took an insane notion to make his ap- 
pearance at unexpected hours, and then he was very likely 
to catch some of the boys napping. 

Si had not been patrolling his beat more than half an 
hour when his ear caught the sound of footsteps. By the 
dim starlight he sa\v a bod}' of men approaching. He 
correct!}' svu'mised that they must be the "grand rounds." 

"Hello, there!" he shouted. 

He was too much flusterecf to recall the form, of the 
challenge, but he knew he had to say something. The 
squad paid no attention to this irregular observation, but 
kept marching toward him. 

"Hold on," said Si, "or I'll blow a hole through some 



HE FAILLS ASLEEP. 



117 



oti ye!" bringing down his gun with his thumb on the 
hammer. 

The officer thought it about time to halt, and did so. 

"Who are ye, anyway, 'n' what d'ye want?" 

Then the officer gave Si a lecture, and after instructing 
him in the forms for such cases made and provided in the 
army regulations, he marched the squad back some dis- 
tance and once more advanced upon Si, to give him a little 
practice. He got through it to the satisfaction of the offi- 
cer and the grand rounds w^ent on its way 

For an hour Si 
walked his beat. 
The time seemed 
verj^ long to him; 
he was sure that 
the third relief had 
forgotten to come 
around. He began 
to feel tired and at 
length sat down be- 
side a stump. Then 
his eyelids grew 
heavy and before he 
knew it they had 
closed. He did not 
mean to go to sleep, 
but he was not used 
to working at such 
unseasonable hours, si forgets himself. 

and it is not strange that drowsiness overcame him. 

When the relief came around the sergeant found Si sleep- 
ing soundly. The first thing he did w^as to disengage the 
musket from the relaxed grasp of the slumberer. Then 
giving him a vigorous shake the sergeant exclaimed : 

"Wake up, the rebels are coming! ' 

Si leaped to his feet in an instant and began to scratch 




J 18 



DEATH STAKES HIM IN THE FACE. 



around for liis gun, while the rising hair almost lifted the 
hat from his heg,d. 

" Wh— wh— wheres mj g-g— gun? Wh-what's the mat- 
ter? "he said in trembling tones, as his knees threatened 
to give way under him. 

"Young man," said the sergeant in tones that pierced 
his very marrow, "/'re got yer musket. I took it from 

ye while ye was 
sound asleep. 
That's what's 
the matter, and 
it'll be a serious 
matter for ye, 
too! Don't you 
know, sir, that 
the penalty for 
sleeping on post 
is death? " 

"Wh-a-a-a-t!" 
said Si, and his 
limbs began to 
shake as he 
stared at the 
sergeant in 
blank amaze- 
ment. "Ye m- 
m-must be j-j- 
jokin', ain't 

A RUDE AWAKENING. Ve?" 

"No, sir, I am not, what I told ye is true as gospd. 
Didn't ye hear it read from the articles o' war when ye 
went on guard to-day? It is my duty to report ye to the 
colonel for sleeping on post, and I suppose ye'll ha«re to be 
shot. It's tough, but ye shouldn't have gone to sleep." 

Poor Si was overwhelmed as thoughts of the awful con- 
sequences of his unwitting lapse from duty rushed over 




GOOD RESOLUTIONS. 119 

him. He sank to the ground in an agony of wretchedness. 
As soon as he could recover his speech he told the sergeant 
in appealing tones that he was detailed that night to take 
the place of a man who was sick, and protested that he 
had heard nothing of what was read to the guards, and 
did not even know^that there were such things as "Articles 
of War." His gun and cartridge-box and knapsack were 
the only "articles '' he knew anj'thing about. 

This gave a different aspect to the affair, mitigating, in 
some degree at least, the enormity of his offense. The 
sergeant's voice softened as he handed Si his gun and 
told him that he would report the explanation to the offi- 
cer of the guard, and if w^hat he had said w^as true, he 
hoped and believed that the punishment would not be in- 
flicted. 

Si fell in behind the relief and marched around to the 
headquarters of the guard, in a state of mind bordering on 
distraction. The officer, satisfying himself of the truth of 
his statements, told him that the matter should go no 
further ; but in earnest words he impressed upon him the 
turpitude of such a violation of military law^ 

"I'm ever so much 'bleeged to ye," said Si, "I didn't 
mean ter do nothin' wrong. I shan't forgit what I've 
iarned to-night ef I stay 'n the sarvice a thousan' A^ears. 
Ef anybod}'" ever ketches me asleep agin when I ought ter 
be awake, he may shoot me 's full o' holes 's a pepper- 
box." 



CHAPTER IX. 

In Which Si Takes His First Lesson in the Manual of Arms and 
Company Drill. 

IT was \vith genuine satisfaction that SiKlegg heard the 
order of the captain one evening at roll-call, for Com- 
pany Q to begin the work of drilling the following day. It 
must be confessed that Si's conceptions of the "school of 
the soldier" and the various compan}^ and battalion evo- 
lutions were at this time exceedingly vague. He knew 
that a "drill " was something to make holes with, and as 
he understood that he had been sent down South to make 
holes through people, he supposed drilling had something 
to do with it. He handled his musket very much as he 
would a hoe. A "platoon" might be something to eat, 
for all he knew. He had a notion that a "wheel" was 
something that went around ; and the only "file "he knew 
anything about was a screeching thing that his father 
used once a year to sharpen up the buck-saw. 

But Si's ignorance was no indication that he would not 
make a good soldier. His mind was in a plastic state, 
ready to receive impressions of duty. He was more than 
willing to learn — his heart vi^as burning with a desire to 
know all about the mysterious things of which he had 
heard so much, that he might speedily attain to the fullest 
measure of usefulness in his humble sphere of martial life. 

"I s'pose I kin do jest's good fightin' 'thout havin' all 
the tic-tacs 'n my head," he said to Short3^ "I've bin 
used ter handlin' a gun ever sence I was knee high to a 

130 



DRILLING AT " PEEP o' DAY." 121 

grasshopper, 'n' I b'lieve I kin load 'n' shoot 's fast 's the 
next un. I don't reck'n drillin' makes a feller have any 
more sand, nuther, but its reggelations, 'n' the ord'ly'll 
alius find me on hand. I hope they won't fool away too 
much time drillin' us t'll the rest on em gits the rebils 
licked, 'n' we don't have no chance fer some o' the fun." 

Then Shorty gave his buoyant comrade some idea of the 
value of drill and discipline to a soldier. Si assured him 
that he would be a diligent pupil, and expressed the ut- 
most confidence that he would make rapid and satisfac- 
tory progress. 

The situation was critical, and all signs pointed to active 
operations in the very near future. It might be a week, it 
might not be an hour ; but a general order had been promul- 
gated for the army to hold itself in perfect readiness for an 
arduous campaign against the enemy, who was known to 
be at hand in large force. The colonel of the 200th Indiana, 
who had seen a year's service in one of the earlier regiments, 
was solicitous for the highest possible efficiency of his raw 
command, and directed that every moment should be im- 
proved. The time w^as too short for thorough, detailed 
instruction and practice in all the intricacies of the science 
of war; this must be postponed to a more convenient sea- 
son. His men were liable to be called into action, and he 
determined that they should be first given a few of the 
simple and necessary lessons in the school of the soldier, 
the company and the battalion. 

The work was to begin with the lark. Reveille was 
ordered at daybreak, and there was to be an hour of 
■'squad drill" — for instruction in the manual of arms — 
while the company cooks w^ere getting breakfast. This 
would give the men a good appetite, and assist in recon- 
ciling their stomachs to army diet ; for the hungrier a man 
is the less particular he is about his food. So the colonel 
thought the arrangement an admirable one, as it would 
serve a double purpose. Some of the boys thought it was 



122 si's brisk beginning 

rather crowding matters, but the great emergency at hand 
was pretty well understood, and the general verdict was 
one of approval. 

The men turned in early. Two or three days and nights 
of excitement, with little sleep or rest, had severely taxed 
their as yet undeveloped powers of endurance, and they 
were glad enough to stretch their limbs upon a blanket on 
the unyielding ground. 

They sprang up at the first tap of the drum, buckled on 
their accouterments, seized their muskets, and took their 
places in line. The company was told off in squads of six 
or eight men each. Most of the line officers of the 200th 
were wholly inexperienced. In order that the seed sown 
among those patriotic Hoosiers might be of the best, and 
yield an immediate harvest, a number of sergeants from 
the old regiments had been detailed to teach the men how 
to handle their arms. These non-commissioned officers 
considered themselves veterans, and knew — or thought 
they did — all about war that was worth knowing. The 
one w^ho took Si's squad was a grizzled sergeant, who had 
been "lugging knapsack, box and gun "for a year. He 
fully realized his important and responsible functions as 
instructor of these innocent youths, having at the same 
time a supreme contempt for their ignorance. 

"Attention, squad! " and they all looked at him in away 
that indicated a thirst for knowledge. 

"Load in nine times — Load !" 

Si couldn't quite understand what the "in" meant, bu<" 
he had always been handy with a shotgun, to the terror 
of the squirrels and coons in the neighborhood of his 
father's farm, and he thought he would show the sergeant 
how spry he was. So he rammed in a cartridge, put on a 
cap, held up his musket and blazed away, and then went 
to loading again as if his life depended upon his activity . 
For an instant the sergeant w^as speechless with amaze- 
ment. At length his tongue was loosed and he roared out : 



LOADING "nine TIMES. 



123 



"What in the name of General Jackson are ye doing, ye 
measly idiot ! Who ordered ye to load and fire 3'-er piece?" 

"I — I — th — thought 3^oti did!" said Si, trembling as if he 
had the Wabash ague. " You said ler us to load nine times. 
I thought nine loads would fill 'er chuck full and bust 'er, 
and I didn't see any way but to shute 'em off as fast as I 
CTot' em in." 

"No, sir! I gave the command according to Hardee,* 
'Load — in — nine — times!' and ef yer hadn't bin in sich 
a hurry ^^ou'd 'a' 
found out what 
that means. Yer '11 
git along a good 
deal faster ef yer 11 
go slower. Ye 
ought ter be made 
ter carry a rail, 
and a big one, for 
two hours." 

Si protested that 
he was sorry and 
didn't mean to and ||^'^' 
wouldn't do so 
again, and the drill 
went on. The mas- ^ -.'•-— 
ter went through "load in nine times— load!" 

all the nine "times" of "Handle — Cartridge!!" ''Draw- 
Rammer! " etc., each with its two or three "motions, 
[t seemed like nonsense to Si. 




* The authorized text-book for infantry at the time the war broke out, 
and for two or three years. thereafter, was "Hardee's Tactics." The 
author, W. J. Hardee, was an officer of the United States Army before the 
Rebellion, but espoused the Confederate cause and was a distinguished 
corps commander under Bragg, Johnston and Hood. Toward the close 
of the w^ar tw^o revised " Tactics " — by General Silas Casey and General 
Emory Upton, respectively — were published, and were used by some of 
the late regiments. The " old soldiers" knew only " Hardee." 



124 



THE FIRST CASUALTY. 



"Boss," said he, "I kin git'er loaded in jest half the time 
ef jer'll let me do it my own waj !" 

"Silence!" thundered the sergeant. "If you speak an- 
other word 1 11 have ye gagged n' tied up by the thumbs !'* 
Si had always been used to speaking out when he had 
anything to say, and had not yet got his "unruly member" 
under complete subjection. He saw, however, that the 
drill sergeant was a sort of military buzz-saw that it was 

not safe to fool 
with, and he held 
his peace. But he 
kept thinking that 
if he got into a 
fight he would ram 
in the cartridges 
and fire them out 
as fast as he could, 
without bothering 
his head with the 
"one time and three 
inotions." 

"Order — Arms!'* 
commanded the 
sergeant, after he 
had explained how 
it was done. Si 
brought his gun 
down along with 
the rest like a pile-driver. The pencil of the artist conveys 
a better idea of the immediate effect than can be expressed 
in words. 
"Ou-ou-ouch!" remarked the victim of Si's inexperience. 
■'Didn't do it a-purpose, pard, " said Si compassionately; 
" pon my word I didn't. I'll be more keerful arter this." 

His suffering comrade, in very pointed language, urged 
UDon Si the propriety of exercising a little more care. He 




SI WAS LEFT-HANDED. 



12; 



determined that lie would manage to get some other fellow 
to stand next to Si after that. 

"Shoulder — Arms!" ordered the sergeant, and the guns 
came straggling up into position. Then, after a few 
words of instruction, "Right shoulder shift — Arms." 

"Don't you know your right shoulder?" said the 
sergeant, wath a 
good deal of vine- 
gar in his tone, 
to Si, who had 
his gun on the 
" larboard " side, 
as a sailor would 
say. 

"Beg yer pard- 
ing," said Si; "I 
alius was left- 
handed. I'll learn 
if yer only gimme 
a show !" 

" Silence !" again 
roared the ser- 
geant. "One more 
word, sir, and I 
will tie ye up, fer 
afaa!" 

The sergeant got 
his squad down to 
an "order arms" 
again, and then, 
after showing them how, he ^ave the command, "Fix — 
Bayonet ! ' ' 

There was the usual clicking and clattering, during 
which Si dexterously managed to stick his baj'onet into 
the eye of his comrade, whose toes were still aching from 
the blow of the butt of his musket. Si assured him he waa 




"right shoulder shift — ARMS! 



126 



SI JOINS THE "awkward SQUAD. 



Mr. 

the 

you 

to 



sorry, and that it was all a mistake, but his comrade 
thought the limit of patience had been passed. He confi- 
dentially informed Si that as soon as drill was over he 
was going to "pound the stuffin' " out of him, and there 
wouldn't be any mistake about it, either. 

When the hour was up the captain of the company came 
Around to see how the boys were getting along. The up- 
,5hot of it was that Si and a few other unfortunates were 

organized into an 
' ' a wkw ard s qu ad , " 
and sentenced to 
an extra hour of 
drill. 

"We'll see, 
Klegg," said 
captain, " if 
can't learn 
handle your arms 
without mashing 
the toes and stab- 
bing the eyes out 
of the rest of the 
company." 

The firsb thing 
on the program 
after breakfast was 
company drill. The 
captain thought 
"fix-bayonet!" ^j^g smattering he 

had of Hardee was enough to justify him in undertaking 
the job. As Company marched out to the drill-ground 
and began operations the veteran soldiers from the adja- 
cent camps gathered to enjoy the sport, forming a ragged 
border arotmd the field. As occasion was offered they 
stimulated the "freshmen" by exasperating comments 
and suggesticns. The captain acquitted himself as well 




COMPANY DKILL. 



127 



as could have been expected, but it was very much hke the 
blind leading the blind, and now and then they "both fell 
Into the ditch." Si Klegg had been so awkw^ard in the 
first drill that he was ordered to take his place at the tail 
of the compan}'. 

The captain first exercised the company in the simple 
facings, without "doubling." He deemed it essential that 
they should be able to get their toes turned the right way. 

Si was one of those 
who required line up- 
on line and precept 
upon precept. There 
were some who "took 
to it" naturally, and 
easily learned the 
multifarious move- 
ments. Others, just 
AS brave and pa- 
triotic and faithful, 
tried diligently for 
three or four years, 
tind then failed to 
master them. The 
true military instinct 
is much like the gifts 
of the poet and the 
artist, "born, not 
made." 

" Left — Face !' shouted the captain. 

Si was zealous in the pursuit of knowledge, and ^vhen 
he really learned an3'thing he tried hard that it should not 
get awa\' from him, and generally succeeded. As yet, how- 
ever, he was as likely to face one way as the other. He 
knew that the sonorous words of the captain required 
hnn to no something. When he had done it he fornd him- 
self looking squarely into the eyes of the man wh-^ had 




LEFT— FACE! 



128 



SI GETS KINKED. 



Stood next to him. Observing his mistake he quickly 
turned himself around, stepping heavily on the toes of his 
comrade. He was just in time to escape a reproof from 
the captain, who ran his eye down the line to see how well 
the order had been executed. Si was in good shape when 
the official glance reached him, and the captain nodded 
approvingly. 

"Front!" 
This was not 
difficult, as every- 
body knew it 
meant to face to- 
ward the captain. 
"Right—Face!" 
Si promptly 
faced to the left. 
Being at the end 
of the line, with 
no one now in 
front of him, he 
did not detect his 
error. He did not 
know that he was 
standing back to 
back with the 
next man. Com- 
pany Q was as 
large then as the 
whole regiment 
"present for duty" was two years later, and the captam, 
who had gone to the head of the long line to direct a 
movement by the flank, did not notice that Si was out of 
position. 

"Right shoulder shift — Arms !" 

The lesson of the early morning had not proved alto- 
o-eth/^r unfruitful, and the men, in the course of two or 




RIGHT — FACE 



COMPANY Q TRIES THE DOUBLE-QUICK. 129 

three minutes, got their muskets into position satisfac' 
torilj. When Si first came into possession of his gun he 
wanted to carry it in his left hand, but he soon found that 
this would not do at all. By carr3ang it with the other, 
as the rest did, he was enabled to identify his right shoulder 
with fair success. 

* ' Forward — March ! " 

The company started off; but the captain was not a 
little surprised, on looking back, to see Si trudging away 
in the opposite direction. The captain asked him with 
great vehemence where he was going. This caused him to 
look around, and he scampered back to overtake the col- 
umn, while the old soldiers who stood or lay about watch- 
ing the proceedings, yelled with delight. 

The captain marched the company around awhile so 
that the men might "get the hang" of keeping step to the 
tap of the drum and the "Hep ! " " Hep ! " of the orderly. 
At intervals he ventured " By file left " or right, to change 
the course of the column. Si was glad he did so, for if 
they kept right on in one direction they would soon be 
among the veterans. This was easy, as the captain only 
needed to steer the orderly, and the men had nothing to do 
but follow. 

Then he thought he would try the "double-quick." He 
knew that when Company Q got near where any fighting 
was going on, the anxiety of the men to get in would urge 
them to a rapid gait. Perhaps at a later period they 
would be satisfied with "common time" when moving 
into the vortex of battLe, but now nothing short of a 
double-quick would meet the demands of their quenchless 
ardor. 

After a few words of rather uncertain instruction, the 
necessary' command was given and away went the men 
at a gallop. There was no thotight of "keeping the step." 
and the company formation dissolved into a wildly rush- 
ing mass, having no more semblance of order than a stam- 



130 "about face!" 

peded flock of sheep. Si Klegg was not built for speed, 
and he brought up the rear, puffing and blowing with 
great energy. Repeated shouts from the captain at length 
brought the company to a halt. The officers and sergeants 
had all they could do for the next ten minutes in getting 
the men straightened out and once more in their places. 
From a tactical point of view, the experiment was not a 
success, but it clearly demonstrated the ability of the com- 
pany to make time when necessary. 

" About— Face ! " 

This was the next command given, after the captain had 
told the men how to do it. This change of position w^as 
executed by properly adjusting the feet and then quickly 
swinging the body to the right half way around, leaving 
the soldier faced in the opposite direction. It was very 
easy — after it had been learned. 

The first attempt to obey the command convulsed Com- 
pany Q like an earthquake. Some wriggled around one 
w^ay and some the other. Here and there one gave him- 
self too much whirling motion and went spinning around 
too far before he could stop, or lost his balance and went 
down among the squirming legs of his comrades. Men 
bumped against one another and muskets and heads came 
in collision. When the company tried the "Right about," 
— the same movement as the above, except that it is exe- 
cuted while marching at common or double-quick time, 
without losing the step — the consequences were even more 
disastrous. 

"Right— Wheel!" 

It was here that the real trouble came in. No infantry 
movement is more difficult than the wheel. None is more 
graceful when executed with precision, nor more ungrace- 
ful when badly done. A perfect wheel, preserving the align- 
ment, can only be accomplished after long practice. 

It is scarcely necessary to say that the first trial was a 
sad failure. The line bulged out in the centre, and the 



LEARNING THE WHEEL. 



131 



outer flank, unable to keep up, fell l3ehind, the company 
assuming nearly the shape of a big letter C. Then the boys 
on the outer end took the double-quick, cutting across the 
arc of the proper circle, which soon resulted in a hopeless 
wreck of the whole company. The captain halted the 
chaotic jungle of struggling men, and with the help of 
the orderly finally succeeded in getting them untangled 
and into line again. The men had often seen practiced 
soldiers going through this movement, and it seemed 
easy enough; they 
did not see why they 
could not do it just 
as well as the other 
fellows. 

The second time 
the company tried 
it those in the cen- 
ter of the line went 
to the other extreme 
and did not step out 
fast enough, and the 
moving flank forged 
ahead, taking 'the 
short cut and com- 
ing in on the home- 
stretch with a wild 
rush that threw the 
ranks into a confusion worse confounded than before. 

By this time the men were getting badly winded, and 
the captain was hoarse from yelling at them. All hands 
were glad to hear the recall sounded, that gave them an 
hour of rest. The day was warm and much of their cloth- 
ing was soaked with perspiration. 

Si hurried to his tent when the company was dismissed, 
threw off" his traps, and stretched himself on his bunk. 

"It's all fer yer country, Si," said Shorty. 




'company — RIGHT WHEEL !" 



132 THE COMPANY GOES ON PICKET. 

"That's all right," replied Si, "but ef there's any fun *n 
drillin' Ican'tseemuch on it yet. I'd aheapruther fight! " 

Shorty smiled. 

That evening Company Q was ordered on picket. As 
soon as the men were in line ready to start, the colonel ad- 
dressed them solemnly on the importance of the duty as- 
signed them. He was ardently desirous that they should 
acquit themselves with credit in case an emergency should 
arise. The men were profoundly impressed, and marched 
to the line of outposts feeling that the whole burden of 
the war rested upon their shoulders. 

The company relieved part of an old regiment which had 
been on duty for twenty-four hours. These veterans had 
watched upon the outposts of the army many a day and 
night, in field and brake and wood, through heat and cold 
and storm. They saw at a glance that the men who were 
to take their places for the night were innocent lambs who 
had never seen a picket-line before. In low, hoarse whis- 
pers they told blood-curdling stories of the awful danger 
that surrounded them. The trembling Hoosiers stood 
with staring eyes and mouths agape, cold sweat starting 
from their bodies, as they listened w^th breathless eager- 
ness to the astounding recital. 

"Why, yoimg feller," said one of them, talking into the 
ready ear of Si Klegg, as if he were pouring w^ater into a 
funnel, "there's more 'n fifty brigades o' rebels right over 
thar in them woods. They've been shootin' bushels o' 
bullets at us all day. Jest look a-here an' see how my 
clothes is riddled." 

His garments were ragged and torn by long usage. It 
was getting dark and Si could not see distinctly, but he 
took it for granted that all the rents and holes w^ere made 
by the bullets. True, Si had not heard au}^ firing that day, 
nor had there been any commotion in camp such as would 
inevitably have resulted. But he did not think of this; 
the veteran knew he wouldn't. Si did not see any dead or 



"stuffing" the greenhorns. 13o 

wounded lying around, but he supposed they had all been 
sent back to the rear. 

" N-n-narrer 'scape fer ye, \v-w-wa'n't it ? "said Si, vainly 
striving to quiet the chattering of his teeth. 

"Betyer life 'twas," replied the malignant old soldier, 
" You take my advice an' jest lay low. Ye don't want ter talk 
ner make no noise, fer they'll hear ye. I had ter sneeze 
once to-day, 'cause I couldn't help it, an' the bullets come 
spatterin' 'round me like hail-stuns on a tin roof. All 
them trees is full o' sharp-shooters ; there's two or three 
of 'em sittin' on every limb. They've got rifles that'll 
carry furder 'n you ever hearn tell of. Them fellers kin 
shute, I tell ye ; they kin hit a fly a mile off four times out 
o'five." 

Si was now fully prepared for his duty. There was no 
danger that he would go to sleep. He moved about with 
the greatest caution lest his foot should snap a twig and 
those fifty brigades of rebels should concentrate their fire 
upon him. He did not talk unless it Avas necessary, and 
when he had to say something he spoke only in a whisper. 
The veterans formed their companies and tramped off 
toward camp in a very unconcerned way. Si wondered 
that they were not all shot down in their tracks. 

"What was that chap givin' ye, 'twas talkin' to ye like 
a Dutch uncle ? " Shorty asked Si after they had gone. 

"Sh-sh-sh!" — and Si held up his hand imploringK^ — 
"Don't talk so loud. Shorty, er we'll all be dead men" — 
and he repeated to his comrade the important information 
that the veteran had imparted to him. 

"Dead fiddlesticks!" said Shorty, "Cap. says ther ain't 
a rebel within five miles o' here." 

"Beats all how them oldsoljers kin lie, don't it Shorty? " 



CHAPTER X. 

The Two Hundredth Indiana gets Marching Orders, and Si Packs 

HIS Knapsack. 



R 



-r-r-r-r-r-rap-r-r-r-r-rap-r-rap-r-r-r-r-rap-rap-r-r- 
r-rap-rap-rap ! 

It was the long roll, sounding for the first time through 
the camp of the 200th Indiana. It is not necessary to re- 
mind an old soldier what the "long roll" was. For the 
information of those whose ears have never been startled 
by its wild alarm, it may be said, to use the phrase of the 
day, it "meant business." It betokened a sudden emer- 
gency that required immediate action. Whenever a soldier 
heard it, at any hour of the day or night, it was his duty, 
without waiting for orders, to spring for his "traps," har- 
ness himself up, sieze his musket and get into line — and to 
do it w^ith all possible haste. After he heard the long roll 
once he never forgot it. 

"Taps" had sounded, the camp-fires burned low, and 
the thousand patriotic Hoosiers had "turned in." Si and 
Shorty had just lost themselves in "the first sweet sleep 
of night," when the sharp rattle of the drum at regimental 
headquarters broke upon the stillness. Both were awake 
in an instant. 

"Wonder what that's fer! " said Si.' 

'•That's the long roll," replied Shorty, who had already 
kicked off the blankets and was putting on his blouse. 

" Ye're actin' like ye'd lost yerwits, Shorty. What's up, 

any w^ ay? " 

134 



THE NIGHT ALARM. 



135 



"I d'know what's the matter," said Si's comrade, ''btit 
ye don't want ter wait ter ax no questions. Git yerself 
hitched up, 'n' ye'd better hustle, too. Whenever ye hear 
that kind o' racket ye don't want to fool away no time 
monkeyin' 'round." 

Without knowing why, except that Shortj^ had told him 
to, SI began to scratch around for his things. Then came 
the shout of the orderly: "Turn out, men, promptly! Fall 
in, fall in ! Be lively ! " 




THE LONG-ROLL. 



Officers came tearing out of their tents, buckling on their 
swords as they ran. Orderly sergeants rushed through 
the company streets stirring up the men. The whole regi- 
ment was thrown into a panicky condition. If a volley 
of musketry had burst upon the camp, it could scarcely 
have produced greater commotion and alarm. 

"Is ther g-g-goin' ter be a f-fight. Shorty?" said Si, as 
they, among the first to be ready, took their places, with 



136 THE AIR WAS CHILLY. 

their muskets at a "shoulder." Si's hands trembled, and 
his knees seemed to be a little shaky. It was probably 
nothing but the chill of the cool night air. "Hadn't we 
better — load our — g-guns ? " he continued. 

"Naw," replied Shorty, "\vaitt'll ye git orders. I don't 
6ee nothin' 't looks like a fight, nuther. Hold on a bit 'n' 
we'll see what it's all 'bout." 

Si w^as reassured by the coolness of Shorty, and by the 
fact that there was no sound ^vithin ear-shot that indi- 
cated immediate trouble. 

In their excitement many of the men came out half 
dressed, dragging their muskets by the "slings," their 
waist-belts and cartridge-boxes trailing behind, completing 
their hasty toilets after getting into line. Some had their 
blouses on inside out, and others had their belts buckled 
upside down. A good many of them were affected by the 
night air in the same manner that Si was. 

"Orderly, call the roll ! " said the captain. 

" Reck'n they wouldn't stop ter call the roll 'f thar was 
anything ser'us on hand," said Shorty to Si in an under- 
tone. 

Si thought this a sensible view of the case. By the time 
his name was reached the chill had entirelj^ passed away, 
and when the orderly called out "Klegg!" he responded 
* ' Here ! " in a loud, clear voice. 

As a matter of fact there was no occasion for creating 
such a riot in the camp of the 200th Indiana. The colonel 
had received marching orders, and he thought he would 
try the long roll on the boys just to see how it would strike 
them. It was a way the officers had of gently "breaking 
in " the new troops. 

After Company Q had been duly formed, with "all pres- 
ent or accounted for," the captain announced that the 
regiment would march at daylight. Each man was to 
have three days' rations in his haversack, and sixty rounds 
of ammunition. Tents woidd be left behind, and only one 



SI DOES NOT NEED QUININE. 137 

baggage-wagon to the regiment would be allowed. Re- 
veille would sound at three o'clock. 

The necessary instructions having been given, the com- 
panies were dismissed. Few of the soldiers returned to 
their beds. In the excitement of the hour there was no 
thought of sleep. They piled wood on the smouldering fires 
and gathered in groups around them to talk it over. 
Everybody asked everybody else where they were going 
and what they would do when they got there ; but as all 
were in the same state of dense ignorance no light was 
thrown on the subject. The company officers were besieged 
with inquiries, but they were equally in the dark, or if they 
did know they wouldn't tell. The boys imagined that the 
colonel knew all about it, but none of them dared to ask 
him. 

Si and Short\' sat on a log before a comfortable fire dis- 
cussing the situation. Si \vanted to have a big fight more 
than he wanted anything else in the world, or at least he 
believed he did. He thought he would not be of any pos- 
sible account as a soldier until he had been through a bat- 
tle, and the bigger it was the better it Avould suit him. 
Hourh', since leaving home, he had given free utterance to 
his desires in this direction. 

"P'r'aps 3'e'll git 'fore long what ye've bin wantin' so 
bad," observed Shorty. "Things looks kind o' squally 
ahead. But say, Si, what made ye shake so when that 
pesky drum routed us out a little while ago ? Ye'll have 
ter git over that sort o' thing." 

"Oh, that wan't nothin," replied Si, trying to conceal 
his chagrin at having shown, even at such a time, any 
symptom of weakness unbecoming a brave soldier. "It 
come on us so sudden like, 'n' all the ossifers a-yellin' at 
us, a feller couldn't help it." 

"Quinine 's what they take ferthe shakes up inlnjianny." 

"I don't need no quinine, Shorty. Jest lemme git my 
second wind. I ain't goin' ter blow, but I don't mean ter 



138 si's quandary.. 

let anybody in this 'ere rijiment go any furder 'n Si Klegg 
does." 

"I \vasonlyjokin',Si. Ib'lieve\^e; 'f I didn't I wouldn't 
have ye fer my pard. But what ye goin' ter do with all 
the nice things yefotchedfrom home? Yer knapsack won't 
begin ter hold 'em, 'n' ef it would yer couldn't tote 'em. 
Ye know ye can't have nothin' but what ye lug on yer 
back." 

"I was jest thinkin' 'bout that," said Si; and the fire- 
light showed upon his face a look of anxiety. He bowed 
his head upon his hand and sat for a moment in deep 
thought, as if earnestly wrestling with the problem that 
confronted him. 

"I s'pose I'll have ter leave some on 'em behind," he 
said, sadly. "I didn't know 's it wasgoin' ter bethis way. 
I thought they had plenty o' baggidge waggins fer the sol- 
jers. I hate ter fling away them things that mother 'n' 
Marier 'n' An — that is, I mean the rest o' the folks give 
me. I b'lieve I c'n carry the most on 'em. I'm goin' ter 
try it, anyway. I shan't let go on 'em till I izaf ter." 

"I didn't have nobody ter cry over my goin' awa^^ er to 
load me down," replied Shorty, " 'n' I'm glad on it. What 
I got f m the quartermaster 's all I want ter lug. I've got 
an idee that yovi'll git sliet o' purty much everything else 
'fore ye've tramped a thousan' mile. But 'f I was you 
I'd stick to 'em 's long 's I wanted ter. You're a nice boy, 
Si, 'n' has lots o' relations 't thinks a heap on ye. I'm a 
black sheep, as hain't got no friends, 'n' 'cordin' ter my 
notion that's the best thing fer a soljer. Ther' ain't nobody 
in a stew 'bout me all the time. Ef I gits killed I won't 
be missed, 'n' 'twon't break nobody's heart. I don't have 
to bother with writin' no letters, nuther! " 

"I don't 'zactly agree with ye. Shorty," replied Si. "Ef 
I thought I didn't have no friends I wouldn't keer ter live. 
Ef I've got ter git killed 'n this war, I'll be a leetle more 
reconciled to it fer knowin' that ther's somebody 't '11 fee* 



IT PROVES A SERIOUS MATTER. 139 

bad 'n' wish the bullets 'd missed me. But I 'low we'd 
better be a gittin' drwn ter business. 1 don't s'pose they'll 
wait fer us in the mornin' ef we ain't ready. I was jest 
goin' to axyer, Shorty, how we're goin' ter carry 'long sixty 
rounds o' ammernish'n; catridge-boxes don't hold but 
forty." 

"Tn our britches pockets, I reck'n." 

Si scarcely knew how he would manage it, he had so 
many other things that would test the capacity of all his 
pockets. Shorty suggested that perhaps he could put the 
extra twenty rounds in his knapsack, but Si didn't think 
he would have an}^ room in that to spare. The conclusion 
arrived at was that the cartridges had the right of way 
and something else would have to ^aeld. What it would 
be Si could not yet determine. It was dawning upon him 
that a sacrifice would have to be made. 

The whole camp was soon astir with the work of prep- 
aration for the march. Rations were issued, and each man 
filled his haversack with hardtack, bacon, coffee and sugar. 
Cartridge-boxes were inspected and replenished and the 
extra twent\' rounds per man distributed in pursuance of 
the order. 

Si's first business was to lay in his commissary supplies. 
Then he betook himself to the serious job of packing his 
knapsack. When he realized the great disparity between 
the heap of things he had brought with him and the space 
to put them in, he found himself in a most perplexing 
quandary. After figuring on it for a while without finding 
a way out of the woods, he determined to fall back on 
Shorty, whose practical ideas would, he thought, prove 
valuable to him in his dilemma. Si was overstocked with 
sentiment ; Shorty had none. B v striking an average a 
solution of the puzzle might be reached. 

"The trouble is," said Short}', "ye can't put two bushel 
o' stuff inter a peck measure. Ye'd ought ter got a knap- 
sack made to order, 'bout four times 's big 's the reggela- 



140 SI BEGINS THE WORK, 

tion size, and then ye'd had ter have a mule ter carry it fer 
ye. I never done much marchin', but I've had jest 'nough 
so 's I know how heavy a knapsack gits, even if ther' 
ain't much in it. I know ye wont take my word fer it, 
ye'd better find it out fer yerself— an'it won't take ye long, 
nuther." 

But Si was active, strong and well, and had unbounded 
faith in his physical abilities. He inwardly resolved that 
he would demonstrate to Shorty what he could do, with- 
out wishing to spurn the well-meant suggestions of his 
comrade. Shorty had stowed away, in about five minutes, 
his simple change of army clothing, and that was all. 
His knapsack being ready, he was at liberty to bestow 
upon his ardent young friend such assistance as the latter 
might be willing to accept. 

"Less see," said Si, as he began in detail upon his outfit, 
"I'm goin' ter take this fortygraph album, 'cause it's got 
all the folks's pictur's; an' this 'ere portfolio, 'n' the slip- 
pers, 'n' this rig fer mendin' up my clothes, 'n' the pin- 
cushion, 'n' the soap 'n' towels — I don't see how I can git 
'long without them. I don't w^ant ter livelike a heathen." 

"Ef I was you, Si," observed Shorty, "I'd put in yer 
reg'lar army duds fust. Ye've got to have them, an' ye 
can see how much room ye've got left. Then y& can tackle 
yer knicknacks 'n' fill er up 's much 's she'll hold." 

A moment's reflection convinced Si that there was a 
strong element of common sense in this suggestion, and he 
began the packing process in that way, with great zeal. 

"Thar," he said, crowding down the dainty garments 
to compress them into the smallest possible space, "they're 
all in 'n' ther's lots o' room left. Reck'n I'd better chuck 
in the undershirts 'n' socks 't mother 'n' Ant Samanthy 
made fer me. They'll be mighty comf table one o' these 
days. This pa'r o' boots I kin hang on the outside." 

Then Si began on the miscellaneous collection. The slip- 
pers and handkerchiefs that Annabel had given him, went 



AND IS HIGHLY ENCOURAGED. 



141 



up 



m first. He would stick to them while he was able to lift 
an ounce. Other articles rapidh^ followed, as one by one 
they were taken up and duly considered. He thought how 
handy they would be, and of the loving hands that had 
wrought them for him, and the verdict in each case was 
that it could not be spared, and in it went. It was not 
long, however, till the knapsack began to show signs of 
fullness, and not half his things were in yet. 

"Better buckle 'er 
said Shorty, 

n' see how she 
looks." 

Si closed the flaps 
and fastened the 
buckles, though not 
without labor. He 
kneaded it down like 
dough with his fists, 
and got upon it with 
his knees, in the effort 
to make himself be- 
lieve that it w^ould 
hold a good deal 
more. 

"If these straps 
was only injy-rub- 
ber," he said in a 
tone of disappoint- the tug of war. 

ment, "but they're leather, 'n' they won't stretch a bit!" 

At length he got it buckled and Shorty suggested that 
he put it on just to see how it felt, and he might be able 
to judge how much more he could stand. 

"Fiddlesticks," said Si, " 'tain't heavy; I c'n lift it witli 
one hand. I c'd carry the hull caboodle well 'nough 'f the 
thing 'd only hold 'em." 

"Ye don't want ter fergit 't yer overco«+ '.p' — - blankets 




142 shorty's views ox books. 

'n' quilts, 'f ye take 'em all, has got ter go on top yit 
They'll make 'er a right smart heavier." 

Even this did not weaken Si's faith in himself. What if 
his knapsack did weigh forty or fifty pounds; that would 
be a mere feather's weight on the shoulders of a strong 
boy like him. Then Si unfastened the straps, determined 
to put in other articles — they had got to go. 

"Hadn't ye better give 'way one o' yer Bibles, 'f ye can 
find anybody 't '11 take it?" asked Shorty. '"Pears ter 
me 'f ye gits all the good out o' one on 'em ye'll be a heap 
better 'n' the av'ridge." 

"I'd like ter give it to 3"OU, Shorty ! " 

"I reck'n 'f you 'n' me 's goin' ter be pardners, we c'n 
git 'long purty well with one Bible 'tween us. I don't 
s'pose I'll read it much, anyway, 'n' when I do want it you 
c'n lend me yourn." 

But Si could not bring himself to part with either of 
them. One was a Christmas present from his mother and 
the other the parson had given him. 

"Never mind," he said, "I c'n carr}' one of 'em in my 
pocket 'n' I wont feel it there." He did argue wnth him- 
self w^hether it would not be best to try and rub along 
without Bunyan and the hymn-book. He believed he 
could remember all the hymns he would want to sing. 

"I'd let 'em slide 'f I was 3^ou," said Short}'. "The^^'re 
fust class fer a Sunda}^ school libery but they don't b'long 
in a knapsack. If I had to tote 'em I'm afeard the 
s'warin' I'd do 'd spile all the good I'd git out of 'em. I 
ain't goin' ter say nothin' agin yer Bible, but right thar's 
whar I draw the line on books. Ef ye was a mule-driver, 
er 'f ye had a hoss t.o ride, jq mout manage 'em, but don't 
ye try ter carry 'em along. Ye'd better give 'em to some 
cavalryman. I don't know of anybody 't needs that kind 
o' readin' more'n they do." 

Si seemed to be favorably impressed with this suggestion 
and said he would bear it in mind. He thought it quite 



SUNDRY FREAKS OF AFFECTION. 143 

possible that he might find somebody whose spiritual con- 
dition ^Yas worse than his own, and if he could benefit 
him by these volumes it would ease his conscience for dis- 
carding them from his outfit. He said he would take them 
along at first, and if he found them too burdensome he 
would watch for an opportunity to dispose of them in 
that Avay. So he jammed them into the knapsack and got 
on them with all his weight to crowd them down. 

"Here's this blackin' kit," he remarked. "Mother told 
me ter keep myself lookin' slick, 'n' of course I want ter do 
it. The brush won't pack very well 'n' I'll tie it on the 
outside with a string. I c'n put the box o' blackin' 
'n my pocket. This clothes-brush I c'n hang on some- 
where." 

The "housewife" that his sister had made for him both- 
ered him sorely. He was profoundly impressed with its 
value for keeping his garments in repair, to say nothing of 
the feeling he had toward it for Maria's sake. 

"I'll leave it to 3'ou, Short}^," he said, " 'f it wouldn't be 
durned mean to sling that avrav." 

"Looks so," replied Shorty, "but 'fore ye git home, 
'nless the w^ar ends sooner 'n I think 'twill, a'c'II have ter 
do a good many thmgs 't goes agin the grain. Ye might 
's well begin now 'n' be gittin' used to it. As I told ye 
'afore, I'm glad I hain't got a lot o' sich traps to bother my 
head about." 

"I wish Marier hadn't made it big 'nough fer a hull 
fam'ly," said Si, as he squeezed it in under the straps of 
the knapsack. " I ain't goin' back on her yet, though ! " 

Then he came to the toilet-case— a prettj^box fitted with 
hair-brush, tooth-brush, combs, glass and hair-oil. With 
the utmost deference to the affection that prompted Cousin 
Betsey to make this contribution to Si's museum, no old 
veteran, whose shoulders ached under the load he tried to 
carry when he starteil out, will for a moment take issue 
with the proposition that such a thing ought not to have 



144 BRUSHES AND "HA'R-ILE." 

a place in a soldier's knapsack. Its utility was not pro- 
portionate to its weight or the space it required. 

" Cousin Betsey gimme that," said Si, sorrowfully, "but 
I don't see how I'm goin' ter git it in, nohow. It'd be 
nice ter have." 

"If ye'd put some wheels to it ye mout hitch a string to 
it 'n' draw it 'long behind ye," said Shorty, with a laugh. 

Si felt that his feelings were being trifled with, but when 
he really came to think of it he could not helj) agreeing 
with Shorty that it "wouldn't pay." 

" Ther' ain't nothm' ye need in thar," said Shorty, as he 
inspected the contents of the box, " 'cept that ar' fine 
comb. T/jat'// come mighty handy to 3'e arter a while, 'n' 
I'd 'vise ye ter hang to it. It'll be the usefullest thing, fer 
its weight 'n' bigness, in yer hull outfit. That glass ain't 
no 'count. Ye've got a purty face ter look at now% but 
bime-by ye'll look so tough 't ye won't want ter see yerself. 
Ye'd think 'twas somebody else 'sides Si Klegg. Wait 
t'U 3'e've been goin' it stiddy fer a year 'n' ye'll feel 
like smashin' yer lookin'-glass. Talk 'bout brushes! 
Ye've got a clothes-brush 'n' a blackin'-brush 'n' a ha'r- 
brush 'n' atooth-brush, 'n' I don't know how many more. 
The boys '11 think j^e're the travelin' agent fer a brush fac- 
t'ry. We'll have a 'brush' with the Rebs one o' these fine 
days, and then ye won't be thinkin' 'bout no other kind. 
What's all them fancy wipes good fer?"— as Si handled 
over the pretty handkerchiefs, with his initial worked in 
the corners, that Annabel had given him. "They ain't no 
'count. As fer ha'r-ile" — and Shorty lifted his nose and 
turned away his face in extreme disgust. "Ef ye've got 
any notion o' bein' a dandy. Si, ye want ter git 'pinted on 
some gin'ral's staff. Ther' aint no other place fer the like 
o' them." 

Si listened thoughtfully to Shorty's long speech. He 
began to think that, so far as the toilet-case was concerned, 
bis pard was not far from right. 



WRECK OF si's "dRUG-STORE." 145 

"I b'lieve," he said, after thinking it over, "I won't try 
tcr carry that box. I c'n scatter the things 'round 'n my 
pockets." 

"If ye don't look out," said Shorty, "yer pockets '11 fool 
ye 's bad 's yer knapsack did. Catridges is made o' lead, 
'n' ye've got ter lug two big bunches of 'em, 'sides them in 
yer box." 

But Si's faith in his pockets was unshaken. He said he 
guessed thej^'d hold all he wanted to put in them. 

"What'd I better do with this rewbarb 'n' pennyr'yal, 
'n' them bottles o' stuff 't mother put up fer me 'f I sh'dgit 
sick? Prob'ly I orter have 'em, but I don't see no place. I 
wouldn't mind carr34n' 'em but ther' ain't room." 

"Ye've got a good mother, Si. I 'low she's one o' the 
best wimmen 'n the world." 

"You bet she is. Shorty! " 

"That's all right, 'n' I'm glad of it. but she don't know- 
no more 'bout soljerin' 'n you do. Ther' ain't no sense 'n 
tryin' to carry a drug store on yer back all through the 
war. The doctors ve got dead loads o' medicine, 'n' 'f ye 
git under the weather, they'll cram it into ye t'll ye can't 
rest. 'Twon't cost ye nothin', nuther." 

Si did not enjoy taking medicine. He had never had any 
sickness to speak of, and he thought there was little likeli- 
nood that he would need the remedies which his mother 
had so kindly put up for him. The "drug store," as 
Shorty termed it, was the first thing he had found that 
he thought he could do without. If it had been pos- 
sible he would have taken it along, but he was brought 
face to face with the stern necessity of cutting off some- 
thing, and he concluded this was the best place to begin. 
He thought he would take the chances with the doctors. 
So he flung the bottles one by one against a log, and threw 
the "yarbs " into the fire. He did not do it without some 
compunctions of conscience, and he hoped his mother 



146 SI GIVES A PARTY. 

would never know the rude fate that befell his medicine 
chest. 

"That's the sensiblest thing ye've done to-night, Si," 
said his comrade. "Now what ar' ye goin' ter do with 
them cans o' peaches 'n' bottles o' pickles 'n' that butter? 
Ye'U find them heavy 'nough 'f ye try ter carry 'em." 

Si "hefted" them and was forced to admit that they 
would add too much to his burden, even were it possible 
to stow them away. 

"Ye'd better eat 'em up 'fore ye start, 'f ye kin," said 
Shorty, "Ye won't be likely ter git no more soft bread fer 
a while, 'n' butter ain't no good on hardtack." 

Large as was Si's capacity for anything good to eat. it 
was out of the question for him to dispose in that way of 
all the toothsome dainties with which his mother had sup- 
plied him. Up to this time he had shared them freely with 
Shorty, but still further assistance was necessary. So he 
invited six or eight of his friends to join them, and by the. 
light of the fire they emptied the cans and bottles of their 
contents. 

"I guess I'm fixed. Shorty," said Si. "We'll only have h 
couple o' hours ter sleep ; lets go ter bed ! " 



CHAPTER XI. 

In Which Si's Big Knapsack Proves too Much for Him, and Hb 
Applies Heroic Treatment. 



4 i TT ELLO, Si, wake up, wake up ! " 

JTjL "Oh, quit! Lemme'lone! I'm sleepy!" 

"Don't ye hear 'em beatin' the drums 'n' tootin' the 
bugles? " said Shorty. "It's the revel-/ee,* 'n' ye have ter 
turn out, right quick. Ye know we've got ter march to- 
day." 

By this time, aroused by sundry shakes and nudges, Si 
was fairly awake, and sprang up in an instant, happy in 
the thought that he w^as to move upon the enemy. In his 
dreams, during his brief sleep, he had fought a whole war 
through. 

"Fall in fer roll-call. Company ! " yelled the orderly, 

"Seems ter me," said Si, as he hurriedly threw on his 
blouse, "we hain't done much since we've been in camp but 
fall in fer roll-call. I can't see no use doin' it six or eight 
times a- day. Wonder 'f they stop right in the middle of a 
big fight 'n' call the roll when it comes time — do they 

* Wise men who made the dictionaries say that "reveille" should be 
pronounced " re-ve/-ye " or " re-raZ-ya," but it w^as never heard so in the 
army. The word was always spoken "rev-el-/ee." This pronunciation 
would be fatally disastrous to the cadence of Scott's smoothly flowing 
lines, in the " Lady of the Lake " : 

" Huntsman, rest ! thy chase is done, 

While our slumbrous spells assail ye; 
Dream not with the rising sun 

Bugles here shall sound reveille." 

147 



148 THE GREAT ARMY ASTIR. 

Shorty? An' does the rebels quit shootin' t'll thej gits 
through? " 

"Wall no^v, Si, ye've got ter Tarn not to fret. Ye don't 
want ter know nothin' ner ax no questions. Ye mus'n't 
think 'bout nothin' 'cept ter jest do what the ossifers tells 
ye to. Ef ye does that ye'll make a soljer; 'f ye don't ye 
wont 'mount ter shucks." 

One of the first things an orderly sergeant had to learn 
was to call the roll of his company from memory, so that 
he could go through the ninety or a hundred names in the 
darkest night without a skip. A man who could not 
master the long list in a week was not considered fit to be 
an orderl3^ The first sergeant of Company Q had not yet 
learned his roll, and was compelled to call it from his book, 
by the feeble light of a candle. 

"The 'general' will sound in an hour," said the captain, 
"and you must be through with your breakfast and ready 
to strike tents. Then you will pack the wagons and roll 
up your blankets, and at five o'clock, when you hear the 
'assembly,' every man must promptly fall in." 

"Shorty," said Si, after the company was dismissed, 
"what does the Gin'ral say when he yells out fer us to 
strike tents ? Thecap'n said we'd hear the Gin'ral ' sound ' 
in an hour.' 

" Ye're 'way off. Si. The Gin'ral don't say nothin'. It's 
the drums 'n' bugles as does thesoundin'. Thdt's only the 
name they gives ter that call. Ye'U find it if ye'll read the 
army reggelations." 

"Oh, I didn't know," said Si, "but I thought the Gin'ral 
'd have to yell purty loud to make 'em all hear." 

The whole army was to move. Ten minutes later the 
darkness that had brooded over the great camp was dis- 
pelled by the gleaming light of countless fires. It was a 
wild, weird scene. Fifty thousand men were bustling 
about, busy in the final preparations for the march. 
To break camp and strip an army of its incumbrances for 



SI THINKS "she LL DO." 149 

an active campaign was a prodigious task, only accom- 
plished by the combined labors of all its multitude of men 
When completely mobilized and upon the road, it would drop 
for rest by the way-side, in field or forest, as circumstances 
permitted, always ready, by day or night, to spring at 
sound of drum or bugle, to march or fight. 

Making coffee and frying bacon were the only culinary 
processes required to make ready the frugal breakfast, and 
the morning meal was soon over. The boys ate the last 
of their soft bread, and not for many a day did they see 
any more. 

Then, amidst a very Babel of shouts and distracting 
commands, the tents were taken down, and the company 
baggage, that was to be left behind, was loaded into the 
wagons. 

When Si had finished his part in the general work, head- 
dressed himself once more to his personal belongings. The 
job of getting his knapsack ready for the march, so 
auspiciously begun some hours before, was not finished. 
Each part of the receptacle was crammed to its utmost 
capacity. When he brought them together his whole 
weight was not sufficient to make the straps and buckles 
connect. He was obliged to call Shorty to his assistance. 
By dint of much tugging and squeezing, their united efforts 
were at length successful in making the ends meet. 

"There," said Si, viewing the great round heap with un- 
disguised satisfaction, "I reck'n she'll do. I c'n carry that 
jest s easy 's rollin' off a log. All these other contraptions 
I'm goin' ter hitch on the outside." 

Having provided himself with strings, he tied on his fry- 
ing-pan, coffee-pot, hatchet, assortment of brushes and 
the boots. Then he rolled up the two blankets, the 
quilt and his overcoat, making a bundle nearly as large 
as the knapsack itself This he strapped upon the top, and 
the work was complete. Si was ready to take the road. 
Promptly at five o clock the ' ' assembly ' ' sounded through 



150 si's cheerful confidence. 

the camp, and cries of "Fall in, men!" were heard on 
every hand. The new soldiers of the 200th Indiana were 
determined to toe the mark in the most approved manner, 
and they began to hustle around with the greatest activity. 
At the first note of the bugle Si bounded from the ground, 
where he had been resting from his labors. He buckled on 
his cartridge-box ; then gayly tossed the strap of his can- 
teen over one shoulder, and that of his bulging haversack 
over the other. Then he took hold of his knapsack and 
tried to "sling" it. He had done this half a dozen times 
before, just for practice, but it did not then weigh a quarter 
as much as now. Seizing it with his strong arm he gave 
it .a long, upward swing, and it came down upon his 
shoulders like an avalanche. He staggered under the shock, 
while the coffee-pot, frying-pan and other articles upon the 
outside dangled about and jingled a merry tune. Si leaned 
forward until his back was nearly horizontal, so that the 
unwieldy hump w^ouldstayin its place until he could fasten 
it. He wriggled and twisted in his abortive efforts to 
reach the strap and make the connection. 

"Guess ye want a leetle lift," exclaimed Shorty with a 
laugh, as he came to his assistance and fastened the hook. 
"Ye 11 want more help 'fore night 'f I ain't badly mistook.'' 

"Oh, this ain't nothin'," said Si, cheerily, as he slowly 
straightened up, the knapsack almost pulling him over 
backward. "It's jest 'slight 's a feather. I c'n carry that 
a hull day 'n' not half try." 

Then taking his musket, Si moved with a wabbling gait 
to his place in Company Q. There were many other very 
large knapsacks, but his unquestionably would have been 
awarded the first prize at a county fair. 

"Mr. Klegg, fall back into the rear rank! " shouted the 
orderly, w^ho was fussing around in the usual way, trying 
to meet the responsibilities that rested so heavily upon 
him. 

The company had only been formed a few times, but Si 



HE GETS A SET-BACK. 



151 



had always taken liis place in the front rank. He naturally 
belonged there; he wanted to be where he could see all 
that was going on, and could be one of the first to "go in," 
w^ithout having anybody in his wa3^ It sorely wounded 
his pride to be ordered into the rear rank. 

"What's that fer, ord'ly ?" he said, unable to concealhis 
chagrin. 

"'Cause I tell 
ye to ; that's all 
the reason you 
want." 

The orderly 
had been one of 
the "big" boys 
of the town — a 
size larger than 
Si — and was al- 
ready manifest- 
ing a fondness 
for exercising the 
authority which 
was vested in 
him by virtue of 
his position. Si 
felt that he was 
just as good as 
the orderly, and 
was on the point 
of raising an 
issue with him 
on the spot. 

"Don't 3-e say nothin'. Si," said Shorty, in a low voice. 
"Ye want ter recolleck what I told ye 'n' jest obey orders, 
er ye 11 git yerself into a sling 'fore ye know it ! I 'low 't 
he put ye 'n the rear rank on 'count o' the big knapsack 'n' 
tin-shop on yer back. If ve was in front ther' couldn't 




READY FOR THE MARCH. 



152 A DISTINCTION WITH A DIFFERENCE. 

nobody stan' behind 3^6 'thout gittin' way out o' line. 
When yer load shrinks mebbe ye c'ri git back 'f ye want 
ter." 

Si took the place assigned him without any further at- 
temjDt to have a rumpus with the orderly. But his 
"spunk" was up, and he was determined to stick to that 
knapsack, whether the Union was saved or not. His gro- 
tesque appearance called forth many jests from his com- 
rades, but these only contributed to the further develop- 
ment of his "nerve." 

"Tlie^^ think I've bit off more'n I c'n chaw," he said to 
himself, "but I'll show 'em! Si Klegg knows what he's 
'bout." 

When the company was ready, the captain came out 
to take it off the orderly's hands. He had no per- 
sonal baggage except his dainty patent-leather haversack, 
and something over the other shoulder that looked like a 
flask. 

"Don't he have to carry no knapsack?" Si asked of 
Shorty. The distinctions and inequalities of rank had not 
yet found their w^ay into his understanding. 

"Course not!" replied Shorty. "Don't ye know 't the 
ossifers has everything done fer 'em ? If ye don't ye'llfind 
it out purty quick. Ye know the orders 't was read las' 
night said ther' wouldn't be but one baggidge-wagin fer 
the hull rijiment. That's fer the ossifers." 

"The ossifers has a soft* thing, don't they?" said Si, 
\yhose shoulders were even now beginning to twinge a 
little. 

" Company, Right — Face ! Forward— March ! " and Com- 
pany started for its place on the color line. The well- 
stuffed knapsacks bobbed up and down like humps on the 
backs of so many camels. The colonel and the other field 
and staff officers, booted and spurred, came out on their 
prancing horses. The adjutant rode wildly up and down 
the line, directing the formation of the battalion. 



THE WEARISOME WAITING. 153 

•* Right— Dress!" 

In the effort to get into a straight line, the ranks surged 
to and fro, Hke the surface of a body of water when there 
is a "sea on." 

"Front!" 

A fairly satisfactory result having been obtained, the 
adjutant sakited the colonel and told him the regiment 
was formed. The colonel sent an orderly to brigade head- 
quarters with word that the 200th Indiana was ready, and 
the work of putting down the rebellion could now begin 
in earnest. 

When fort3^ or fifty regiments were ordered to march at 
the same hour on the same road, some of them had to 
wait. It was three hours before the 200th Indiana pulled 
out — and long, tedious hours they were. The men who 
composed it had not yet been educated in the school of 
patience. During the first hour they were kept standing 
in line, that there might not be a moment's delay when 
the order shouldcome to join the long procession that was 
moving upon the pike. 

Ten minutes had not passed when Si s back and shoulders 
began to ache. Furtively slipping his gun around behind 
him, he placed the butt upon the ground and braced the 
muzzle under his knapsack. This gave slight temporary 
relief, but whenever a galloping horseman was seen, the 
colonel commanded "Attention! " and there was no more 
resting tmtil official vigilance \vas relaxed. 

At length it dawned upon the colonel's mind that the 
men could just as well be taking it easy, as far as circum- 
stances would permit. So he told them they might break 
ranks and rest at will. Knapsacks were not to be unslung, 
however, and every man must be ready to spring into his 
place at the word of command. Then those already tired 
Hoosiers experienced for the first time in their lives what 
a blessed relief it was to a soldier burdened with all the 
paraphernalia of war, to lie on his back with all his ti apa 



154? THEY WANTED FRONT SEATS. 

on, slide down a few inches to loosen the straps, and rest, 
with his head pillowed on his knapsack. There were few 
things in the army that yielded as much solid comfort to 
the square inch as this. It has no existence in the memory 
of a cavalryman. 

The men of the 200th Indiana watched with jealous e3'es 
the column of troops, that seemed to have no end, passing 
in the road. They were sure there would be a fight that 
da}^ and what possible chance w^ould they have to get any 
of it, with so many ahead of them ? They were all anxious 
to have front seats at the first entertainment they were to 
w^itness, however much this desire might be modified in 
the future. 

Si Klegg was greatly disturbed by the apprehension that 
it would be all over before he got there. He did not know 
then how long they had to chase over the country some- 
times when they w^ere looking for somebody w^ho wanted 
to fight, nor what a disappointment awaited his expecta- 
tion of pleasure in a battle. 

"Looks like they warnt goin' tergive us no show 't all," 
he said, as he tried to roll over so that he could talk to 
Shorty. 

"Now don't git in a sweat," replied his comrade. "I 
know ye've got lots o' sand in yer gizzard, but yere goin' 
ter git filled chuck full fore ye gits through with this thing. 
Ye won't be half so hungry arter a while ! " 

Nothing could dampen Si's ardor, and as regiments and 
brigades swept by, he felt that his chance to win military 
renow^n was growing slimmer and slimmer. There cer- 
tainly would not be any batteries left for him to help cap- 
ture. 

"Attention, Two Hundredth Indiana! " 

The long looked-for order had come at last. Si got up 
at once — or rather he tried to do so, for it was ver}^ much 
as if a millstone were hanged about his neck. His knap- 
sack w^eighed twice as much as w^hen he put it on in the 



RUNNING THE GAUNTLET AGAIN. 155 

early morning. He only succeeded in reaching an erect 
TDOsture by rolling over and getting up by degrees, 
with the aid of his hands and knees. He was a little 
"groggy,'' but he knew he would be all right after he got 
fairly started. 

The colonel's sword swished through the air as he drew 
it from its scabbard and gave the order "Forward — 
March," and the raging patriots turned their faces in the 
direction of the foe — or whore he was supposed to be. The 
200th had been assigned to a brigade of four or five regi- 
ments of veterans, who for twelve or fifteen months had 
been doing some hard fighting and a great deal of hard 
marching. They had learned much of war. Their romantic 
fictions had long since disappeared and they had got down 
to the reality of army life. 

The 200th was to lead the brigade that da}-, and as it 
marched past the old regiments the boys made the ac- 
quaintance of those who were to be their companions in 
camp and field. The few knapsacks that still remained 
among the veterans looked scarcely larger than postage- 
stamps stuck on their backs, compared with the huge masses 
that were borne on the shoulders of the Indianians. 
Listen to those ragged and depraved old soldiers as the men 
of the 200th Indiana, with their fresh faces, clean new 
clothes and burnished arms, go tramping by : 

"Here's yer mules, boys! Look at the loads they're 
packin'!" 
"Fresh fish!" 

"Ther' hain't no dew fell on 'em yet." 
"I say, how'd ye leave Mary Ann 'n' all the folks to 
hum?" 

"Look at the fellers with fortifications on their backs."' 

"Here's a hull rijiment o' knapsacks with legs to em!" 

" Ye'll be a sheddin' them things fore nighx." 

"Hello, thar, Bub, how d' ye sell tin-ware?" 

This heartless question was aimed at Si Klegg, whose 



i56 IT GROWS WARM. 

ponderous and picturesque outfit was a conspicuous target 
for the raillery of the brown and bearded veterans. Si's 
feelings were outraged. He wondered why men who were 
so lost to all decency were not court-martialed and shot. 
He straightened himself up and cast upon his tormentors 
a look of unutterable scorn. Sharp words of retort flew 
from his tongue, but they were lost in the chorus of wild 
yells of derision that greeted him. 

"Better dry up, Si," said Shorty "them chaps is too 
many fer ye. Wait t'll ye git a little more practice 'fore 
ye try to talk to sich duffers 's they be." 

Si checked his combative impulses, and marched on in 
silence. 

Once upon the road the column stretched away at a 
brisk gait. The colonel of the 200th was determined that 
his regiment should not fall behind, while the men wanted 
to show the fleet-footed veterans that they could get over 
the ground as fast as anybody. They indulged the hope 
that they would soon have an opportunity to show the 
old soldiers — who had not 3'et succeeded in whipping the 
rebel army — how to fight as v/ell as ho\v to march. 

Meanwhile the sun was rapidly climbing the eastern 
sky, and his rays were beginning to beat down fiercely 
upon the no^v perspiring patriots. Si had not gone a mile 
till his tongue was hanging out and he found himself pant- 
ing for breath. Already his shoulders were aching as they 
had never ached before in all his life. And the day's march 
had but just begun! 

" How 're ye makin' it. Si ?" inquired Shorty, with tendet 
solicitude. He had noticed that his j)ard seemed to have 
lost his usual vivacity. He had not spoken a w^ord for a 
quarter of an hour; and when Si's tongue was so long 
quiet there must be something out of gear. 

"Oh! I'm g-gettin' 'long b-bully!" replied Si; but the 
slow and labored utterance did not quite tally with hi? 
words. 



SI SHOWS SIGNS OF WILTING. 



157 



Si did not evince a disposition to continue the conversa- 
tion. He appeared to have other uses for all his energies. 
He noticed many of his companions leaning forward to 
ease their burdens, now and then hitching up their knap- 
sacks to give a moment's ease. It was evident that a feel- 
ing of fatigue was already pervading the regiment. All 
this only strengthened Si's pluck. Whatever anybody' else 
might do he was bound to peg it through to the end, 

and carry every 
r-=4L M ^ — N pound he had 

taken upon him- 
self. He would 
get used to it di- 
rectly and then it 
would be easy 
enough. 

So he trudged 
bravely on, with 
teeth firmly set, 
and the grip of a 
vise upon the butt 
of his musket. 
The perspiration 
streamed from his 
nose and chin, and 
flowed in tickling 
streams down his 
body and legs. He 
was warming up 
to his work. 

"Sh-Short}^ ' he gasped, as he reached the end of the 

•ccond mile, ' ' d-don't the\^ give a feller any restin' spells ? 

Dad used ter put us through when we was pitchin' hay 

'n' hoein' corn, but he'd let us b-blow once 'n a while." 

"Ye ain't pla\'in' out a-ready, are ye, Si?" 

"No-sir ee, I ain't," he replied, bracing himself up by a 




A SERIOUS MISCALCULATION. 



158 IN THE FENCE-CORNER. 

great effort. "I en go it all day 'f I hnftcr, but it 'd be 
a heap easier 'f I c'd jest stop a minute er two 'n' lay in a 
fresh supply o' wind." 

"I'll tell ye one thing, Si, ye've got too much meat on 
yer bones fer a fust-class roadster. Ye know bosses can't 
travel when they re fat, 'n' I recknit's the same way with 
soljers. When ye gits rejuced twenty er thirt}^ pounds — 
an' 'twon't take hard marchin' 'n' hard- tac/r long ter do it 
— ^ye'll git over the ground a mighty sight better. By that 
time ye \von't be luggin' so many traps, nuther. 'F I was 
you I'd begin purty quick ter git shet o' some on 'em !" 

But Shorty's advice w^as still premature. The most 
careless observer could have seen that Si was slowly but 
surely approaching the point when the exigencies of the 
service w^ould overcome his sentimental devotion to his 
"traps and calamities, " as Shorty flippantly called them, 
in spite of mother and sister and Annabel. 

At length the drum gave the signal for a halt. With a 
sigh of inexpressible relief the weary, panting men sank to 
the ground by the roadside, to find such rest as they might 
in the few allotted moments. 

Si Kleggwas more nearly exhausted than he v/as willing 
to admit, even to himself. As he dropped into a fence- 
corner, trembling in every nerve and fiber of limb andbod}^ 
there came into his mind the fleeting wish that his load 
w^ere not so heavy. 

The single hour's experience on the road had served to 
remove the scales from the eyes of a goodly number of the 
members of Company 0. They began to foresee the in- 
evitable, and at the first halt they made a small beginning 
in the labor of getting themselves down to light marching 
order — a process of sacrifice which a year later had ac- 
complished its perfect work, when each man took nothing 
in the way of baggage save what he could roll up in a 
blanket and toss over his shoulder. It was but a small 
beginning. They "yanked" oj:>en tlT;ir knapsacks and 



SI LEARNS SLOWLY. 159 

flung a\vay a book or an album, or an extra garment, 
choosing such articles as could best be spared. The sacri- 
fice was not made without a twinge of regret, for all had 
their cherished keepsakes — affection s gods, that they well- 
nigh worshiped for the sake of the loving hands that fash- 
ioned them. 

Short}' was lean in flesh and in baggage, and in good 
shape for traveling. Although he had shared in the gen- 
eral fetigue and was glad enough to rest with the others, 
the march thus far was to him but a pleasant exercise as 
compared with what it had been to those who staggered 
beneath their burdens. While the reducing process was 
going on he looked at Si to see whether he was yet learn- 
ing the wisdom that in time came to every soldier. Some 
did not learn it as soon as others. 

" Goin' ter try it 'nother heat, ar ye Si ? " he said, observ- 
ing that the latter gave no sign of casting off any of the 
weight that encumbered hiin. 

"Course I am," he replied, cheerfully, "I feel 's fine 's a 
fiddle now 't I've rested a bit n' had a chance ter git up 
steam. 'Tain't goin' ter be so hard when a feller gits broke 
in!" 

"It's the breakin' in 't hurts," said Shorty. "I s'pose 
ye've heern tell o' the hoss 't was fed on sawdust. Jest as 
he was gittin' used to it he up 'n' died. I sh'd be sorry ter 
have it work that way with you. Si." 

At the call the soldiers fell in and resumed the march. 
Si was quick to obey, feeling greatly refreshed by his five 
minutes of rest. He started off ver}^ courageoush^ whis- 
tling " Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean," and keepingtime 
to the music. But he did not whistle a great while. He 
did not feel like it, much as he tried to make himself think 
he did. Hotter and hotter beat down the sun's rays as it 
mounted to the zenith. In streams more copious flowed 
the perspiration that oozed from every pore. The air was 
thick with dust from the countless feet of men and horses 



160 THE MADDENING BLISTERS. 

that had gone before. It gathered upon Sis face; it per- 
meated his clothes and w^as ground into the skin under the 
straps and belts that bound him. At every step his knap- 
sack grew heavier. His heated, sweating back smarted 
under the pressure. Lower down his cartridge-box, with 
its leaden load, bobbed up and down with every footfall, 
chafing and grinding until that particular spot felt as if 
in contact with a red-hot iron. His canteen and haver- 
sack rubbed the skin off his hips ; thebunches of cartridges 
in his pockets scraped his legs ; and his musket lay like a 
section of railroad iron upon his shoulder. 

Then a new trouble came to Si, as though he had not 
enough already. He was young and tender — a sort of 
"spring chicken," so tospeak. There was a sharp, smart- 
ing sensation at different points on his feet ; it did not 
take long to blister such soft feet as he had. The\^ felt as 
if somebody had poured scalding water on them, and was 
rubbing on salt and pepper and horse-radish, varying the 
treatment by thrusting in a dozen needles. What a keen, 
maddening pain it was! How it thrilled ever}^ nerve, as 
the rough shoes tore off the tender skin ; and the great 
load of knapsack and cartridge-box and gun pressing the 
needles farther in at ever}'- step ! 

There are not many things in this world of sorro\v more 
utterly and wildly exasperating than tramping with blis- 
tered feet on a hot day, carrying a big knapsack. A blister 
is not always as large as a barn-door, but for stirring up 
all the latent depravity of a bo\^'s heart, it has few suc- 
cessful rivals. 

Si began to limp, and, in spite of his efforts to prevent 
it, an expression of pain now and then escaped his lips. 
Still he kept up in his place, strong in his determination 
not to straggle. His efforts may have been somewhat 
stimulated by a blood-curdling rumor, which started at 
one end of the regiment and quickly ran its entire length, 
thai a body of rebel cavalry was following leisurely along 



COMES TO IT AT LAST. 161 

at the tail of the column, massacring all the stragglers. 
But the tax that he had imposed upon his physical forces 
was too great. The spirit indeed was willing but the flesh 
was weak. 

"Shorty," he said to his comrade, "I wonder how fur 
we've got ter hoof it to-day; did ye hear?" 

"Som.e o' the ossifers wassayin' this mornin' we'd have 
ter make twenty mile 'fore we'd camp, 'n' we mout have 
ter keep right on all night." 

"Seems ter me," said Si, groaning inwardly at the pros- 
pect, "we've traveled much 's twenty mile a-ready, hain't 
we?" 

" Skurcely, " replied Shorty. "I'm sorry fer ye, pard, but 
we hain't come more 'n five er six mile yit." 

Shorty saw that Si was rapidly approaching the point 
where he would break down. His sympathies were aroused 
in his comrade's behalf. 

"Si," he said, "lemme carry yer gun a piece ; that'll ease 
ye up a leetle bit!" 

"'Bleegedto ye. Shorty" he replied, "but I guess I c'n 
pull through. Ye've got all ye want ter tote." 

But when Shorty reached up and relieved him of his 
musket he yielded without objection. At the next halt Si 
told Shorty that he had made up his mind to take his ad- 
vice and lighten his load. 

"I knew ye'd have ter come to it," said Shorty, " cause 
ye ain't no mule 'n' ye can't stand it. There's lots o' them 
things ye don't need, 'n' ye'll git 'long a heap better 'thout 
'em when ve're marchin'. I know ve hate ter fline 'em 
away, 'n' I think all the more of ye 'cause j-e've got sich 
feelin's, but if 3-er mother 'n'yer sister 'n' all the rest on 'em 
had knowed how it 'd be they wouldn't ha' guv 'em to jq 
to load ye down. It's got ter be did, Si." 

Shorty's logic was unanswerable. Si's blistered feet and 
aching limbs and smarting shoulders told him, even more 
plainly than his comrade's words, that the sacrifice was 



162 



SENTIMENT AT A DISCOUNT. 



inevitable. He first tossed his hatchet over the fence. 
Then his clothes-brush and shoe-brush went ; true they did 
not weigh much, but every ounce would help. His frying- 
pan and coffee-pot he decided to be necessities. Opening 
his knapsack he held a melancholy inquest upon its con 
tents. The hymn-book he speedily dis230sed of without 
carrying out his intention of bestowirg it upon a wicked 
cavalryman. The "Pilgrim's Progress" quickly followed. 

It was as much as he 
could do to look after 
his own progress as 
a pilgrim. He threw 
away the cakes of 
fancy soap and his 
sister's pin -cushion, 
after sticking half a 
dozen pins in his 
blouse. He discard- 
ed the photograph 
album, first taking 
out the pictures and 
putting them in his 
pocket. Some of the 
nice articles of cloth- 
ing he flung upon 
^i the ground. As the 
weather w^as then, he 
did not feel that he 

THE SHRINKAGE BEGINS. W^OUld CVCr W aut 

them. He looked at his big roll of blankets and decided that 
an advantageous reduction coiild there be made. His first 
plan was to abandon his blankets and keep the pretty quilt 
he had brought from home. 

"Don't do that," said Shorty. "Ye'll be sorry 'f ye do. 
Thcr' ain't nothin' so good "s an army blanket. I know ye 
don't like to heave away that quilt, but you jest let 'er slide/ ' 




GATHERING UP THE DEBRIS. 163 

Si was coming to have a good deal of confidence in 
Shorty's judgment, and it was settled that the broad ex- 
panse of beautiful patchwork, on which his mother had 
spent so many hours of toil, would have to go. 

People who lived along the line of march followed the 
moving army for miles, gathering up the things that the 
new soldiers threw away. Men, women and children 
loaded themselves with quilts, clothing and articles of 
every description. A happy thought entered Si's head. 
Drawing out the big knife that his Sunday school teacher 
gave him, he began to slash the quilt into strips. 

"What ye up ter now ? " asked Shorty in surprise. 

"I tell ye what 'tis, Shorty,'' was the reply, "ef I can't 
have any good o' this kiver ther' ain't no secesh goin' ter 
sleep under it," and he continued the work of destruction. 

By the same process the home blanket was disposed of. 
Shorty told him to keep only his overcoat and the blanket 
furnished him by the quartermaster, and he concluded that 
Shorty knew better than he did. 

Si had learned his first practical lesson in making him- 
self a soldier. It had come to him through much pain and 
tribulation. Two or three million other men were taught 
by the same educator — Experience. Precepts and theories 
went for naught. The shrinkage of the knapsack was the 
first symptom of the transformation that changed the raw 
recruit into an effective soldier, ready at any moment for 
a fight or a foot-race 



CHAPTER XII. 

Si Finishes the Day's March, Nurses his Blisters, and is Detah^ed 
TO Help put up the Colonel's Temt. 

AT the call to resume the march Si jumped nimbly to 
his feet, notwithstanding the general stiffness of his 
joints and the large and varied assortment of aches and 
pains that darted and dodged through every part of him. 
With renewed confidence he slung his knapsack, which had 
been very materially lightened. But it was a big knap- 
sack yet, and destined to be flattened a good deal more in 
the near future. It was not clear to Si how any further 
reduction was possible; and indeed, as he started off again 
he experienced such relief that not a lingering doubt re- 
mained in his mind that he could now go as far and as fast 
as any man in the army. 

The blisters on his feet, which at once became lively, were 
his greatest cause of grief. The old ones remained as vig- 
orous as ever, and new ones were constantly forming on 
sole and toe and ankle. 

"Ouch!" 

This was the laconic observation that Si involuntarily 
made every now and then, in a voice of agony. Whenever 
he said this his companions in misery knew that another 
blister had "busted," as they expressed it. How his 
nerves tingled with the sharp pain ! 

But on and on tramps the remorseless column. The 

army cannot pause for aching limbs to rest and blistered 

feet to heal. 

164 



si's mental processes. 165 

The knapsack bears down again tipon Si's chafed and 
smarting shoulders. It seems heavier than before, and 
with each mile grows heavier still. How glad he would 
be if he could pitch it into a fence corner and leave it there. 
He wonders if he could possibly get along without it. 
But no, this cannot be seriously thought of^at least not 
yet. So he braces himself up and plods along his weary 
way. Thoughts of home — he can't help it — that he left 
scarcely more than a week ago flit through his mind. 
Mother, father, sister — and Annabel, he knows thc}^ are 
all thinking and talking about him and v.'ondering how 
he fares. How glad he is that they cannot see him now. 
How their hearts would bleed for him if they knew. 

But Si was not going to be one of the many poor boys 
who actually died in the army from "homesickness." Dash- 
ing the sleeve of his blouse across his eyes to brush away 
— perhaps it was only perspiration, he banished the haunt- 
ing thoughts. 

''Now, Si," he said to himself as he trudged on, "ye 
ain't goin' ter make a fool o' yerself. It 'd be jest heaven 
'f ye c'd lie down with yer head on yer mother's knee, 'n' 
have her soft handstrokin' yer hair, but ye can'thave that 
now 'n' ther' ain't no use worryin' yerself 'bout it. Ye're 
goin' ter be a soljer, 'n' a good 'un' too, but ye want ter 
fergit fer a while 't ye've got any mother 'n' sister. Thar's 
Shorty, he's glad 'cause he hain't got nobodj^ 'n' I d'know 
but he's purty nigh right. Anyhow ye've got jest all jq 
c'n think 'bout 'n' 'tend to now. It's a mighty sight 
harder 'n ye thought, but ye're goin' ter stick to it, Si, 'n' 
be a man 't yer folks won't be 'shamed of" 

How slowdy the hours dragged, and how long were the 
last few miles ! Hundreds of the new soldiers dropped by 
the roadside, utterly unable to keep their places in the col- 
umn that swept on and left them. Many who in the morn- 
ing were in the flush of strength and vigor, lay panting 
and exhausted upon the ground. At every stream and 



lot) 



AT THE SPRING. 



Spring tlie men crowded one another for the iDlessed priv- 
ilege of bathing their smarting feet, and filHng their can- 
teens. Strict orders, with the most severe pains and pen- 
alties, had been given against straggling; but obedience 
was not within the bounds of human possibility. The 




THE RUSH FOR WATER. 



rear-guard, with fixed ba\^onets, sought to force onward 
those who had fallen by the wa^^ Some, at sight of the 
cruel steel, got upon their feet and hobbled painfully on, 
but to many it seemed that even death, in the face of their 
sufferings, had no terrors. The ambulances were full to 
o trerflowingr of worn and wretched men. The few wagons 



AFTER THE MARCH. 167 

that accompanied the troops were heaped with knapsacks 
and muskets, of which the soldiers had been permitted by 
the surgeons to reHeve themselves. The clothing of the 
men was white with dust, and saturated with the moisture 
from their sweating bodies. 

Si was determined to keep with the colors, and he did; 
but he was profoundly thankful when the 200th Indiana, 
with scared}^ half its men in ranks, filed into a field to 
bivouac for the night. If all the haying and harvesting 
and corn-hoeing and wood-chopping that he had ever done 
in a whole year, could have been compressed into the hours 
of a single day, he could not have been more completely 
**used up" than he was when the regiment stacked arms 
and received the welcome order to "break ranks." When 
he unslung his knapsack and let it fall to the ground, it 
was like getting out from under a motmtain. And what 
a relief it was to lay off cartridge-box, haversack and can- 
teen ! Who that has not experienced it can know the rest- 
ful feeling that came to limb and bod}^ as he unfastened 
the strap and flung down the last of his accouterments ! 
What an unspeakable luxury to take off his shoes and 
throw himself upon the ground. No bed of softest down 
was ever half so welcome. Si began to wish that he had 
enlisted in a cavalry regiment, so that he could ride. 

Short3% for the good and sufficient reasons already given, 
stood the march better than most of his companions. He 
was, however, by no means free from aches and blisters, 
though his feet had more skin left on them than Si's had. 
It was simply the difference between carrying a big knap- 
sack and one that wasn't so big. 

After they had rested a little time, Shorty suggested 
that they go to the stream near by and bathe their feet. 
"It'll be the best kind o' medicine fer 'em," he said. 

"That's a goo-j idee! " said Si, "but I'm afeard I can't 
git down thar. I jest feel 's though I couldn't budge an 
inch. I'm 's sore all over 's if I'd been run through a 



168 



A SOVEREIGN BALM. 



thrashin' machine. I don't b lieve 1 could 'a' gone 'nother 
mile ter save my life." 

"I'm purty much that way myself," replied Short}^ " 'n' 
I know you feel a good deal wuss ner I do ; but I tell ye 
ther' ain't nothin' like water ter bring us 'round. Try 'n' 
limber up." 

After painful effort Si managed to get himself up "on 
end." Taking their shoes in their hands and treading 

gingerly, they slowly 
made their way to the 
creek. The banks were 
lined with soldiers en- 
joying the reviving in- 
fluence of the water. 
Si and Shorty slipped 
off their trousers, and 
oh, how delicious the 
cooling water felt to 
their chafed limbs and 
smarting feet ! They 
had but fairly begur\ 
to enjoy it when the 
ominous voice of the 
orderly fell upon Si's 
unwilling ears. 

The orderly sergeant 
in the army vras gen- 
erally regarded by the 
other non-commissioned officers and the privates as a 
necessarv evil, but none the less a palpable and unmiti- 
gated nuisance.* 
Next below the grade of a commissioned officer, he out- 

* This is not, to the writer, an abstract theory. For a year his arms 
were decorated with the chevrons of a first sergeant, composed of three 
Y stripes and a diamond, and he speaks from personal knowledge gained 
by abundant experience. 




AFTER A day's TRAMP. 



THE ORDERLY SERGEANT. 169 

iranked all the rest of the enlisted men, so that his author- 
ity — unless in its exercise he transcended his legitimate 
functions— could not be called in question. By his superiors 
he was held directly responsible at all times for the condi- 
tion of his company and the whereabouts of its members. 
All must be "present or accounted for." It was his busi- 
ness to see that all orders were duly enforced and obeyed, 
to draw and issue to his company supplies of rations, 
clothing and ammunition, to see that the men kept their 
persons and their clothing clean, and their arms and tents 
— when they had any — in good condition, and to make all 
details for fatigue, guard and other duty; besides number- 
less minor things that no one can understand or appreciate 
except those who have served in that thankless and exas- 
perating position. 

It was impossible to do all this without more or less 
friction — generally more. There were many very brave 
and in every w^ay excellent soldiers who were not the em- 
bodiment of all the Christian virtues. Indeed, it may be 
safely said that the "old Adam " theory of the theologians 
found more ample illustration in the army than in any 
other sphere of active life. The circumstances \\ ere not 
favorable to the development of gentleness, meekness, pa- 
tience, long-suffering and the other beautiful adornments 
of human character. Exception may perhaps be taken by 
some of the veterans to the last of the attributes men- 
tioned, for it cannot be denied that there was plenty 
of "long suffering," if the words be given a literal inter- 
pretation. 

Upon the head of the orderly w^as poured a great deal 
more than his share of profanit3^ Scarcely a day 
passed that he was not deluged with it. If anything went 
Avrong with the company he caught "Hail Columbia " from 
the officers. When enforcing discipline and making de- 
tails of men for duty, particularly after fatiguing matches 
or on rainy days, he rarely failed to provoke the wrath 



170 THE UNIVERSAL SCAPEGOAT. 

of those whose "turn" it happened to be. The curses and 
maledictions were not always loud, for prudential reasons, 
but they were deep and fervent. The longer the men re- 
mained in service the more fluent they became in the use 
of pungent words, making it warmer and warmer for 
the orderly. Swearing at him was the sovereign balm 
for the soldier's woes. When the hardtack was wormy, 
or the bacon maggoty, or the bean-soup too weak, or 
rations scanty ; when the weather was too hot or too 
cold, or it rained, or the company hod to goon picket after 
a hard day's tramp, or any fatigue duty had to be done; 
when the buttons flew off their clothes and seams ripped 
the first time they v^ereworn, or the shapeless "gunboats" 
scraped the skin from their feet; when the company had 
to turn out for drill, with the mercury in the nineties, and 
swelter and charge around capturing imaginary batteries 
— for all these and much more the persecuted orderly was 
to blame. He was ground to powder between the upper 
and nether millstones — the officers and the men. His life 
was a continual martyrdom. 

Then he was expected to be, himself, in every way, an 
example to the men worthy of their imitation — a pattern 
of soldierly perfection, in his bearing, his person, and "all 
appurtenances thereunto belonging," as the la^vyers say. 
The only redeeming feature in the orderly's wretched ex- 
istence was that he did not have to detail himself to go 
on guard or chop wood or load the colonel's wagon. 
From these the "Regulations" exempted him. 

"Hey, there, Mr. Klegg!" shouted the orderly of Com- 
pany 0. 

The orderlies addressed the men as "Mister" at first, but 
they soon got over that. 

"Hello!" replied Si, "what d' ye want o' me?" 

"Report immejitly fer fatigue duty. Go to head- 
quarters an' help put up the colonel's tent. Hurry on with 



IT WAS "PURTY TOUGH. liA 

yer duds an' be lively, 'cause the colonel's waitin', an' Iie'll 
Stan' ye on yer head if ye don't come to time !" 

Si's first thought was to make another issue on the ques- 
tion of his "turn." He was sure that all whose names 
preceded his on the roll had not been detailed for fatigue 
duty. He wondered if he was to suffer still further pun- 
ishment for his part in the conspiracy to have the orderly 
tossed in a blanket. Remembering his former experience 
he said nothing, but he "chalked it down" in his memory 
for future use. 

"That's purty tough, ain't it Shorty?" said Si, as he 
sadly drew his feet out of the w^ater and began to put on 
his trousers. "'Tween you 'n' me, I think it 's mighty 
mean, too. The colonel rid a hoss all day while we was 
a-trampin'. 'n' 't seems ter me 's if he mout put up his 
C)wn tent. He's got a nigger ter help him, too. Ef I was 
colonel o' this 'ere rijiment I bet ye I wouldn't make none 
o' the soljers that hain't got no skin left on their feet, put 
up my tent. I wish 't I was colonel 'n' he was Si Klegg 
fer jest one day so he c'd know how 't feels." 

"Growlin' don't do no good,'' replied his comrade. 
"Ihe ossifers 'n' the orderlies has all the trump keerds 'n' 
they takes the trick every time. Better let me go 'n yer 
place, Si. I ain't used up 's bad 's you. I'll be glad ter do 
it fer ye." 

"It's reel kind of ye. Shorty, but I'll do it ef I c'n make 
the riffle. I ain't goin' ter shirk nothin' 's long 's I c'n 
Stan' up. Ef I can't I can't, 'n' that's the end on 't. But 
I sh'd think the colonel mout git 'long 'thout any tent. 
The rest on us has ter, 'n' I don't see how he's any better 
'n we are, jest 'cause he's got shoulder-straps 'n' we hain't !" 

The subtle questions of distinction between carrying a 
sword or a musket, between commanding and being com- 
manded, were too much for Si's philosophy. Nor was 
there time to pursue the discussion. Two minutes had 
Fumced for putting on his clothes and shoes, though the 



172 THE VALUE OF A "PARD." 

latter caused him much pain and still further ruffled his 
temper. 

At headquarters Si found half a dozen men who 
had been detailed from other companies for the work in 
question. All were in a similar condition as to their feet 
and limbs ; and judging from the emphatic observations 
that fell from their lips, there was no dissent from the 
views Si had expressed to Shorty. Thc}^ had not yet 
learned the "knack" of pitching a tent, and not till after 
repeated trials, under the pressure of pointed rebukes from 
the colonel for their awkwardness, did they get it up to 
suit him. 

Fortunately, Shorty's information that the march might 
have to be continued through the night, proved to be in- 
correct. The tired soldiers w^ere directed to make them- 
selves as comfortable as possible, but to be ready to move 
at an early hour in the morning. When Si got back to his 
company he found that his faithful friend had kindled a 
fire, upon which the coffee was already boiling and the 
bacon sizzling in a manner most gratifying to one as hungry 
as he. During the day there had been no halt for coffee. 
The gnawings of hunger had only been partiall}- appeased 
by an occasional nibble at the flinty hardtack. As Si 
limped down from the colonel's tent he had been wonder- 
ing how he would manage about the supper, and he was 
delighted at Shorty's promjDt and efficient services. The 
grateful odor of the steaming coffee did much to revive his 
drooping spirits. 

"Shorty," he said, "I think I was mighty lucky to git 
such a good pardner 's you be. I never knowed ye t'll ye 
jined the company, 'n' when I fust seen ye I 'lowed ye 
wan't muzh 'count nohow. I thought \^e'd be the last 
man I'd ever want ter tie to. But now I wouldn't swap 
ye off fer any man 'n the hull rijiment." 

"Ye can't most alwa3's tell 'bout folks f'm what ys see 
on the outside," replied Shorty. "I couldn't tell ye how 



LAST OF THE RECRUITING OFFICER. 173 

'twas f I sh'd try, but somehow I kind o' took to ye, Si. 
f'm the start, n' 's long 's ye keep on the way yeve begun, 
I'll stick by ye. I never had much bringin' up, 'n' I've 
knocked 'round fer myself ever sence I was a little shaver, 
but I've got some feelin's, 'n' it does me good ter have 
somebody to think 'bout 'n' do suthin' fer when I kin. But 
the coffee 's done 'n' this ere pig-meat 's fried 'nough ; let's 
eat." 

The ties that bound near comrades and associates in the 
army were more than those of friendship. In constant 
companionship, bearing one another's burdens and shar- 
ing the toil and danger and suffering and the hard-earned 
glor}' of a soldier's life, their hearts were drawn together 
by a feeling that can find a parallel only in the tenderest 
relations of life. These cords were fast tightening around 
Si and Shorty. Si's innocence, frank good-nature and 
cheery chatter had completely captured his comrade, and 
thawed out the heart that lay beneath his forbidding ex- 
terior.' Shortj-'s repeated kindnesses had won Si's ardent 
affections, and his hard sense and helpful, practical ways 
were just what was needed by one who had had so little 
experience with the world as his young companion. 

"Short}'," said Si, as they spread down their blankets, 
"that 'cruitin' ossifer kind o' fooled the boys when he 
blowed so much 'bout Comp'ny Q havin' sich a soft thing, 
didn't he?" 

" He did so — them as b'lieved it." 

"I didn't take no stock in 't," Si continued, "fer I wasn't 
lookin' fer no soft snap, anyway. Ijined the army with 
the idee o' seein' the elephant.' 

"Purty good-sized animile, ain't he, Si?" said Shorty 
with a laugh. 

" Wall — yes — n' gittin' bigger all the time ; but I'm. goin' 
ter have a good squar' look at him. I'd jest like ter seen 
that feller 't 'listed us humpin' 'long 'th this rijiment. 
'V'hat ever become on im. Shorty? " 



174 WOLVES IN sheep's CLOTHING. 

'*0h, he didn't never 'low to do any soljerin'. His pa- 
trit ism — 1 b iieve that's what they calls it — swelled up so 
big that it busted. When he got his comp'ny raised he 
sold us to the man 't 's our capt'n. Ef I'm any jedge 
Cap. 's wuth a dozen like t'other chap ! " 



CHAPTER XIII. 

Which Illustrates the Depravity of the Veteran Soldiers. 

FAR into the night the weary stragglers, by ones and 
twos, dragged themselves in^o camp, inquiring the 
whereabouts of the 200th Indiana. Suffering in body, 
discouraged and sick at heart, they flung themselves upon 
the ground with no thought of anything but rest. Their 
needs were supplied by kind-hearted comrades who had 
been more fortunate in enduring the fatigue of the day. 
The doctors found plent}^ of work in administering reviv- 
ing cordials, and applying soothing emollients to blistered 
feet and stiffened limbs. Gradually the fires of the great 
bivouac burned low as the soldiers lay down to sleep. 
The hum and bustle grew quiet, and the mantle of night 
spread over the sleeping army. 

This was the time for the wicked veterans to make their 
predatory forays upon the new troops. A year of hard 
campaigning had made sad havoc with the clothing of 
the old soldiers. Many of them had no blankets or over- 
coats. Such of these necessary articles as still remained 
were nivich the worse for the service they had seen. They 
had not stood it as well as the men. They were worn and 
tattered, blackened by thesmoke and burned by the sparks 
of many a camp-fire. The elaborate outfit of the raw sol- 
diers afforded an opportunity that could not be jjermitte 



RAIDING THE HOOSIERS. 175 

to pass timmproved. The march of twenty miles, that 
had so neail}^ used up the 200th Indiana, had been noth- 
ing to the veterans, -with their light burdens and nimble, 
hardened feet. With laugh and jest and song they had 
made their coffee, toasted their bacon and munched their 
hard-tack, and then smoked and spun yarns as they 
squatted around the fires, in thehappy-go-luck}^ style that 
characterized the seasoned soldiers. Some of them were 
so kind of heart as to go over to the bivouac of the aching, 
smarting, groaning and grumbling Indianians and proffer 
their advice and personal services in preparing supper and 
making such arrangements for comfort as the circum- 
stances would permit. Their ministrations were most 
gratefully received by the sufferers, who had not the faint- 
est conception of the real errand of these good Samari- 
tans. This was to reconnoiter and determine the most 
promising place to strike — after a deep sleep should have 
fallen upon those unsuspecting Hoosiers — to replenish their 
wasted stock of overcoats and blankets. The men of the 
200th Indiana warmly thanked the veterans for their 
timely assistance. The latter, while cherishing their dia- 
bolical schemes of plunder, assured their neighbors that 
they were heartily welcome. They had been there them- 
selves, and knew just how it felt to be "played out.'' 

Two hours later, when the fires had burned to smolder- 
ing embers, dark forms glided noiselessl}^ about among 
the prostrate soldiers of the 200th. Here an overcoat 
was adroitly prigged from under the head of a sleeper, 
and there a blanket was gently drawn from the forms it 
covered. The men generally slept by twos, spreading one 
blanket upon the ground and the other over them. Fortu- 
nate was he who had no " pard," and wrapped himself in 
his solitary blanket, lying upon part of it and covering 
himself with the rest. For obvious reasons he was safe 
from the operations of the raiders. Sometimes the prowler 
<vould leave in place of the article taken one that had been 



176 



A SOLDIER S CONSCIENCE. 



battered by storms and burned full of holes, quieting his 
conscience — if he had anj^ — with the recognized commer- 
cial axiom that "an even exchange is no robbery," or the 
more flexible one that "all is fair in war." True, it re- 
quired a stretch of imagination to consider the exchange 
an even one, but the veteran Avas not accustomed to split 
hairs in such trifling matters. If he had none to leave in 
exchange he simply walked off with his plunder, leav- 
ing to be settled 
hereafter whatever 
moral questions 
might be involved. 
To take care of 
number one was a 
cardinal principle in 
the mind of the old 
soldier. If it now 
aixl then ran foul of 
the decalogue, the 
latter had to give 
way. A few of the 
Hoosiers had strug- 
gled through with 
extra blankets or 
quilts brought from 

FLEECING THE LAMBS. homC. luSUchcaSCS 

one of them was taken wathout compunction. It was not 
considered fair for one soldier to have two while another 
had none ; and besides, it was a blessing to him to relieve 
him of part of his burden. 

Si and Shorty did not escape the doom that befell so 
many of their comrades. They slept so soundly that they 
knew nothing of the midnight raid that left them with- 
out a blanket save that upon which they lay. The dew- 
fell heavily upon their garments that were still damp from 
the perspiration of the day. The night air chilled them to 




THEY MISSED SOMETHING. 177 

tHe very marrow. Si at length awoke, witli teeth chatter- 
ing, and shivering in every limb. 

"Hello, there, Shorty," he exclaimed, poking him with 
his elbow, "ye've pulled all the blanket off 'n' I'm purty 
nigh friz. Ef 3'e don't quit doin' that I'll ketch my death 
cold. Ugh ! " and Si shook till his bones fairly rattled. 

"I hain't got no kiver, nuther," replied Shorty, as he 
roused up with a shiver. " Whar is the pesky thing, any- 
way?" 

"She's gone! "said Si, sadly, after they had fruitlessly 
explored the adjacent territory. "D'ye s'pose somebody 
stole it?" 

"Shouldn't wonder!" Shorty scratched his head re- 
flectively and continued : "I'll bet ye I know whar 't went 
to, Si. You remember seein' one o' them Ohio chaps 
sneakin' 'round when we was gittin' into shape last night, 
'n' tellin' us how ter do it ? " 

"Yes," said Si, who was beginning to comprehend the 
mysterious disappearance, " 'n' he had the cheek ter ax me 
'f we had plenty o' blankets so 's we'd sleep warm. I told 
him we did, 'n' he said he was glad of it." 

"I 'low that feller 's got our blanket," said Short\\ 

"Wall, ef that ain't dog-goned ornery !" exclaimed Si. 
"I'm goin' ter lick him termorrer. I don't keer 'f he 's 
twicet 's big 's I am ! " 

With this idea of retributive justice uppermost in his 
mind, Si dragged himself to the remains of the fire and 
tried to get a little warmth into his chilled body. Shorty 
tlirew on some wood, and in a few minutes a bright blaze 
diffused a glow of good cheer. Drowsiness soon overcame 
them, and spreading their only remaining blanket near 
the fire, they again lay down and in a moment were fast 
asleep. 

Long before daylight the pitiless drum and bugle 
sounded the reveille into the unwilling ears of Company 
Q. Si had not slept half as long as he wanted to, but the 



178 SI IN A BAD WAY. 

orderly was yelling for the tardy ones to fall in for roll- 
call, and there was no alternative. He was very stiff and 
sore. It seemed as if all his joints had grown together 
during the night and his bones, from head to foot, were 
united in a solid mass. 

"Great Scott, Short}'," he said, as he rolled over and 
made an effort to get upon his feet, "I reck'n \'e'll have ter 
git a rail 'n' prj^ me up. I'm jest 's sore 's a bile all over, 
'n' 's stiff 's a poker. It seems like I hadn't got no 
j'ints." 

"I don't feel very frisky myself," replied Shorty, "but I 
s'pose we'll have ter turn out. Lemme give 3^e a lift." 

Si gave him his hand, and by their combined efforts he 
succeeded in reaching an erect posture. When he tried to 
step he tottered and would have fallen but for the support- 
ing arm of his comrade. His feet were insubordinate and 
would not do as he wanted them to. Every attempt to 
move extorted an involuntary groan. 

"Stick to it, Si," said Shorty, "ye'll git limbered up arter 
a while." 

Si was courageous and determined. He knew that other 
itien, thousands of them, had gone through such an ex- 
perience. It was true that a good many had died in bravely 
trying to "get used to it," and many more had thronged 
the hospitals along the track of the army ; but Si never for 
a moment entertained the thought that he could not do 
what anybody else had done. He kept up a cheerful spirit, 
notwithstanding his bodily woes. To do this was always 
worth more than barrels of medicine to a soldier. 

A little exercise loosened his joints, and after roll-call he 
began to stir about in the work of preparing for the day's 
march, with more briskness than he had thought possible 
when he was so rudely awakened from his slumbers. 

The disappearance of so many overcoats and blankets 
created a great stir among the members of the 200th In- 
• liana. There was much speculation as to what had be- 



HE MAKES FURTHER SACRIFICES. 179 

come of them. There were few who had not lost one or 
the other, and some had been despoiled of both. Daylight 
revealed the members of the old regiments of the brigade 
suddenly possessed of new articles of this kind, and by 
putting this and that together, a simple process of reason, 
ing soon brought to the minds of the forlorn Hoosiers a 
plausible solution of the mystery. Vows of vengeance were 
heard on every hand. 

After breakfast Si began to consider the advisability of 
still further lightening his knapsack. He was partially 
consoled for the loss of his blanket by the thought that he 
would not have to carry it. The nocturnal foragers had 
kindly spared his overcoat. He thought he could manage 
to rub along with that until the fortunes of war— or the 
quartermaster— should provide him with another blanket. 
His knapsack, reduced though it was, seemed very heavy 
when he lifted it. He had but little sentiment left after the 
experience of the previous day. He was more and more 
convinced of Shorty's good sense in the matter of baggage. 

"Pard," he said, as if once more seeking counsel of his 
friend, "I don't b'lieve I want these 'ere traps 's much 's I 
thought I did. I've 'bout made up my mind ter sling 
away some more on em." 

"Ko-rect," replied Shorty, "now ye're talkin' kind o' 
sensible like. I tell ye a soljer don't want ter lug a single 
ouncemore 'n he has ter. I'd clean 'emnll out ef 'twas me." 

Si went through his stock with a remorseless determi- 
nation to spare not. Everything went except such articles 
as were absolutely necessary to his well-being, and two or 
three precious mementoes of home which he felt that he 
could not part with. When he came to the pretty slippers 
that Annabel gave him. Shorty sniffed contemptuously. 

"What on airth d'ye want o' them things?" he said. 
"Ye hain't no more use fer 'em nor a mule has fer kid 
gloves." 

But logic had no bearing upon such a subject, and Si, 



180 A TRANS ACTIOX IN LEATHER. 

without making any reply, tucked them back fnto his 
knapsack, saying to himself that they weren't very heavy, 
anyway. 

"Shortj^" he said, "what 'd I better do 'th these 'ere 
boots; they feel 's heavy 's ef they was poured full o' lead. 
Them 's extry nice boots 'n' its wicked ter thrown 'em 
away. They must ha' cost father nigh ten dollars." 

"Ef the ole man 'd ever toted a knapsack he wouldn't 
ha' guv 'em to ye. He meant well, but he throwed away 
his money 'n' j^ou can't do nuthin' but throw away the 
butes. 'Sides, ^^e can't march in 'em. They ain't no good 
'longside o' shoes. Ye wouldn't have no feet left arter 3''e 'd 
marched in 'em fer a week. I'll tell ye, Si, try 'n' sell 'era 
ter some ossifer 't rides a hoss. Don't be pertickler 'bout 
the price; take jest what ye c'n git fer 'em." 

This was a good suggestion and Si acted upon it af 
OMce. After a brief negotiation with the quartermaster, 
whom the boots happened to fit, a bargain was made, and 
SI returned to his comrade with three dollars in money. 

"Thar, pard," he said, gleefully, "I'm goin' ter spend 
that buyin' chickens 'n' you 'n' me '11 go snacks on 'em. 
They won't 'low us ter steal 'em, but I reck'n they won't 
hender a feller f 'm gittin' 'em by payin' fer 'em." 

By the time Si got through, his knapsack looked as if an 
elephant had stepped on it. Those of the entire regiment 
presented a similar appearance, varying onl\' in the extent 
to which they had been flattened. A few of the men w^ere 
still inclined to overestimate their carrying abilities, and 
needed one or tw^o more days of tramping to convince 
them of their error. The ground was strewn w'ith gim- 
cracks of every conceivable kind. An army wagon might 
have been heaped with the debris. 

Some of the soldiers from other regiments strolled 
through the camp of the 200th to see how their new com- 
rades were getting on. As they scornfully kicked about 
the castaway articles, they indulged in many a cruel jest at 



BIBLES AND BLISTERS. 181 

the expense of the Indianians. The latter kindly offered 
them books and /'housewives" and albums, but the old 
veterans spurned the gifts. 

"We don't want 'em no more'n you do!" said a tall, 
lank Illinois soldier, who looked as if he had slept in a 
smoke-house. "We all had 'em when Ave started in but we 
wasn't long sheddin' 'em. When I seen you fellers humpin' 
up yer backs yisterd\^ I knowed what j^e'd all be a doin' 
this mornin'. Soldierin' 's easy 'nough arter ye git the 
hang of it." 

Si tried to give away one of his Bibles, but he did not 
succeed in finding anybody who was hungering and thirst- 
ing after righteousness sufiiciently to be willing to put 
upon his back the pound or so that it weighed. It seemed 
to him that there were plenty of the veterans who showed 
the need of it. He thought particularly of the degenerate 
individual who stole his blanket, and felt that he would 
like to give it to him — although he wanted the pleasure of 
"licking" him first — if he could ever find the guiltv man. 
He would not throw the Bible away, and finalh' turned it 
over to the chaplain, who promised to find a place where 
it would do good to somebody. The chaplain gathered 
up a score of others upon the ground, which the men had 
thrown away. When it came to the point of choosing 
between blisters and Bibles, it did not take long to reach a 
conclusion. The chaplain's reverential ideas were shocked, 
and he ventured to distribute in a general wav words of 
mild reproof. Their effect was somewhat modified, how- 
ever, b\' the fact that he had a horse to ride. 

"I jest wonder how many Bibles he'd carr}'," Shorty 
said to Si, "f he had ter hoof it 'long 'th the rest on 
us, 'n' tote a knapsack 'n' gun 'n' catridge-box 'n' all the 
rest of the traps 't we has ter; then he'd know a good deal 
better how to preachify ter the soljers." 

There was 3^et some little time before the fall-in would 
be sounded, and Si thought he would go over to the Ohio 



182 AN EXPLORING EXPEDITION. 

regiment and see if he could find his blanket. He did not 
think Shorty would approve of the expedition, and there- 
fore said nothing to him about it. He limped around 
among the veterans, hoping that his eye might catch the 
face of the man who visited him the evening before. He 
believed that person was the culprit, and was confident 
that he could recognize him. 

The old soldiers were lazily loitering around the fires, 
for the chill of the night had not yet been dissipated. 
From the moment that Si crossed the line he was the tar- 
get of a constant fire of good-natured badinage. No person 
could possibly have been mistaken in supposing that Si 
w^as one of the new crop. His fresh, ruddy face had not 
yet been darkened by sun and storm and smoke, nor had 
the bright color faded from his garments. You could have 
picked him out for a recruit among a thousand. 

Si was not long in finding the object of his search. Sit- 
ting upon a new blanket, which he had twisted up ready 
to throw over his shoulder at tap of drum, was the man 
who had called upon Si and Shorty. Si was sure he was 
not mistaken as to the soldier's identity, and he had not a 
shadow of doubt that that blanket rightfully belonged to 
himself. His first impulse was to move immediately upon 
his works and mete out to the Ohio man condign punish- 
ment, in accordance with his declaration to Shorty. On 
second thought he didn't know but he might be mistaken 
after all; perhaps somebody else had taken his blanket, 
and besides this man seemed to be in good health and 
thoroughly able to defend himself. 

"Good mornin'," said Si, rather timidly. 

"How ar' ye, pard," replied the Ohio man. 

"Nice mornin'." 

"Yup!" 

"I thought I'd come 'n' see — that is, I was goin'ter ax ye 
— 1 mean I wanted ter tell ye how much 'bleeged i am ter 



INTO THE enemy's COUNTRY. 183 

ye for comin' over 'n' helpin' us last night. It was mighty 
good of ye ter do it." 

"Oh, that ain't nothin','' said the veteran. "Iknowed 
ye'd be purty well played out, fer I've been jest that way 
ni3'self, 'n' I thought I mout give ye a hint er two 't 'd come 
in sort o' handy. Ye pulled through bully, yisterdy, 
but I don't reck'n ye feel very spry this mornin', do ye? 
Feet a leetle sore ? Bones ache ? Feel 's if ye didn't care 
whether school kep' er not?" 

This gave Si an opening to introduce the subject upper- 
most in his thoughts. 

"Wall, I'm fa'r to middlin', considerin' the way they put 
us through all day." 

"That wa'n't no march 't all ! One o' these days ye will 
cotch it fer a fact. It was yer big load 't come nigh bustin' 
ye up. I seen you fellers all physickin' yer knapsacks this 
mornin', 'n' I 'low ye'll get 'long easier to-day." 

"I wouldn't ha' been so stiff," said Si, " 'f I hadn't 
cotched cold last night. Somebody borrered my blanket 
'thout axin' me, 'n' 'long to'rd mornin' I waked up shakin,' 
's if I'd got the ager." 

"That -was a scurvy trick,'' said the old soldier, with 
feigned indignation. "Ef I w^as you I'd punch his head fer 
him, 'n' punch it hard, too, 'f I could find the feller 't done 
it. Ef ye git 3^er eye on him, 'n' he's too big fer ye, jest call 
on me 'n' I'll help ye. We'll polish him off beautiful." 

"That's what I come over here fer," said Si, who found 
his courage rising. "I was kind.o' thinkin' — mebbe I'm 
wrong — but — that 'ere blanket you're a-sittin' on look? 
jest like mine!" 

At this palpable assault upon his integrity the soldier 
sprang to Jiis feet and assumed a warlike attitude that for 
the moment demoralized SI and caused him to fall back. 
In a moment, however, the veteran's hostile appearance 
vanished, and the scowl upon his face gave way to a 
" smile that was childlike and bland." 



184 



SI MAKES OUT A GOOD CASE. 



"I don't blame ye, pard," lie said, "fer tryin' to find yer 
blanket. I'd feel the same way 'f I was in yer place. But 
this 'ere one ain't yourn! I drawed it f'm the quarter- 
master last nig^ht. I'd jest 's lief let ye look at it," and he 
unrolled it and spread it before Si, feeling secure in the fact 
that all blankets were alike. 

Si surveyed it critically and then said : "Ye don't object 

to turnin' it over, do 




ye 



V" 



"Course not!" was 
the ready reply, and 
over it went. 

Si's quick eye detected 
in one corner a rude 
"K"that he had been 
thoughtful enough to 
put in the first day he 
had his blanket. His 
' ' housewife ' ' furnished 
the necessary materials. 
"There," he exclaim- 
ed triumphantly, as he 
took it up and pointed 
to the letter, "I guess 
that blanket b 'longs to 
a feller 'bout my size. 
D'ye see that K? My 
name's Kiegg, 'n' that 
means me. I done that 
myself" 

Appearances were rather against the veteran, but he had 
been in tight places before, and he was not in the least dis- 
concerted by the evidence that Si had made out his case. 

"Why, man alive," he said, "my name begins with a K, 
too. When I drew this blanket last night I thought some 
durned fool 'd come 'long 'n' say 'twas hisn, 'n' so I jest 



A PRIMA FACIE CASE. 



JOHNSON SPELLED WITH A "k."' 185 

made my 'nitial thar 'n the corner. I'll leave it to the boys 
'f I didn't." 

The interview between Si and the veteran had attracted 
to the spot a number of the latter's comrades, most of 
whom had supplied themselves with new blankets in the 
same manner as did the one who said his name began with 
K. When appealed to in behalf of the monstrous state- 
ment, of course they all stood by their comrade. 

"That's so, Johnson, "said one of them thoughtlessly, "I 
seen ye doin' it with my own eyes. Ye was sittin' right on 
that ar' log." 

Si thought it was queer to spell "Johnson'' with a K. 
He wanted to say so, but in the presence of such monu- 
mental assurance and so great numerical odds he concluded 
that it would be the part of discretion not to press his 
claim. There "was nothing more to be said, and he turned 
away. The soldiers laughed heartily at his discomfiture. 

"Ef I was you, Johnson," he heard one of them say, 
"the next time I went fer a blanket I'd try 'n' cabbage one 
't wa'n't marked, er 't had a J on it." 

And then thej^ all went to inspecting those which thej 
had acquired, to see if they were liable to be caught in the 
same trap as Johnson, spelled with a K. 

Si walked slowly back to Company Q, meditating on 
the depth to which human depravity could reach, and won- 
dering if he would ever be like those terrible veterans. 

"Hello, Si, whar ye been? " said Shorty, as his comrade 
came up. "What makes ye so solemn? Ye look 's though 
ye'd come f 'm a fun'ral." 

"Shorty, I've found my blanket 'n' the chap 't stole it.'* 

" Did ye lick 'im?" 

"N-no,Ican't say's I did. I never wanted ter thrash any- 
body so bad in iny life, but — ther' was too many on 'em, 
Shorty. I knew I couldn't lick a hull rijiment, 'n' so I 
didn't try. Jest "'■a^'^ ""'^l iV^-^-^h 'iir aHre some time 'n' 
I'll-" 



186 SI EXPLAINS MATTERS. 

" But why didn't ye bring along yer blanket ? " 

" Oh, I kind o' thought I wouldn't, fer the same reason 's 
why I didn't give him the lickin'. He said 'twas hisn 'n' 
stuck to it, 'n' half the rijiment backed 'im up." 

"Ye know ye had a mark in the corner o' yer blanket, 
Si; did ye find that?" 

"You bet I did, but that feller had more cheek 'n a hull 
team o' mules. He said his name begun that way 'n' he 
put that mark thar hisself. An' then I heern one o' the 
bo3^s call him Johnson ! " 

Shorty laughed as his comrade told of the treatment he 
had received among the Philistines. 

"Tell ye what 'tis, Si," he said. "Ye never seen sich 
funny fellers 's these 'ere vet'rans is. Thej^'re up ter all 
kinds o' shenanigan. Ye've got ter larn how ter git 'long 
with 'em. The best thing fer ye is ter do jest 's they do 'n' 
then they'll respect ye 'n' ye won't have no bother with 
'em. They're a bad crowd, 'n' they alius makes it warm 
fer the greenies. Ye wants ter watch out fer a chance ter 
git even v^ith 'em." 

"I'd take my blanket 'f I could, but ye know, Shorty, I 
couldn't steal nobody else's." 

"I ain't so squeamish 's you be," said Shorty. "I'll git 
ye a blanket jest 's good 's the one ye had, 'fore termorrer 
night. I ain't goin' ter rob nobod}^ in the 200th Indiana, 
nuther." 

The colonel of the 200 th stormed around and talked 
with great vehemence about the robbing of his men ; but 
there were very few of the losers who could prove their 
property and nothing came of it. The colonel declared 
that he w^ould keep a guard around the regiment with 
loaded muskets and fixed bayonets, with orders to shoot 
or stab any man who should attempt to cross the line. 

The second day's march was much like the first. With 
his greatly reduced load Si got along better. But lor the 
blisters upon his feet, which caused acute pain at every 



so GLAD TO HAVE SUNDAY COME. 187 

Step, he would have made the journey with comparative 
ease. The division to which the 200th belonged was 
ahead that day, and the men were kept in a constant fever 
of excitement by the reports of rebels ahead, that filtered 
through each successive regiment of the long column. 
Now and then a shot was heard in the distance that 
caused the new soldiers to prick up their ears in anticipa- 
tion of the slaughter they thought was about to begin. 
They did not find any fighting to do, however, and" at 
dark, weary and footsore, they filed off the road and went 
into bivouac. 

"Shorty," said Si, as they threw themselves upon the 
ground to breathe a few minutes before setting about the 
work of getting supper, "I'm awful glad termorrer 's 
Sunday!" 

"What fer ? " asked Shorty. 

"So 's we kin have a chance ter rest. I never was so 
glad ter have Sunday come ! " 

Shorty laughed softly to himself but said nothing. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

In Which, Overcome by his Aches and Blisters, Si Falls otjt 
AND Finds How Hard it is to '* Ketch up." 

AN hour before daylight the reveille aroused Si from 
his deep slumber. When he lay down the evening 
before he had nothing but his overcoat to serve as a cover; 
now he was pleased to find himself lying under a blanket 
which, if it had no " K " stitched in the corner, was as good 
as the one he had lost. 
'* Whar 'd this come from? " he asked his comrade. 
"Don't ax too many questions," replied Shorty, "ye 



1 88 HE MARCHED JUST THE SAME. 

had ter have one 'n' I jest got up 'n the night 'n' 'drawee' 
it fer ye." 

"But, Shorty— " 

"Now^, pard, never you mind the buts. Ther' ain't 
nothin' ter be said 'bout it. Ye've got a good blanket 'n' 
ye wants ter freeze to it. Ye'll have ter larn ter look out 
fer yerself, same 's all the rest on 'em does." 

Si was so stiff and sore that it was as much as he could 
do to get into his place for roll-call. He felt comforted 
when he remembered that it was Sunda}^, and he would 
not have to march. How he would enjoy a day of i'est! 

"Ye'll have ter stir 'round lively this mornin'," said the 
orderly, after he had got through the Z's in calling the roll. 
"We're goin' to pull out early, 'cause we've got to make 
a long march. I want ye to be ready to fall in when ye 
hear the drum. Ye've all got to keep in ranks, too; ther' 
ain't goin' to be any stragglin' 'lowed ! " 

"Did the ord'ly say we'd got ter march to-day, Shorty ? " 
asked Si, who thought his ears must have deceived him- 
He did not believe so monstrous a thing could be true. 

"That's jest the bigness of it," replied Shorty. 

"I didn't s'pose they marched Sundays," said Si, "I sh'd 
think it 'd be wicked 'n' our chaplain 'd make a fuss 'boul 
it." 

"Ye won't be long findin' out 't when men goes to wai 
they've got ter leave Sunday to home. The chaplain won'^ 
git no chance ter preach to-day 'less he preaches on hoss 
back. I reck'n his sarmon '11 keep." 

"Wall," said Si, with an air of resignation. "I don'1 
see no way but ter go 'th the rijiment, but it's purty hard 
ter put a feller through right along, Sunda^^s 'n' all. It 'd 
make mother feel bad, but I ain't ter blame." 

Soon after breakfast the column was on the road, mov 
ing at a rapid pace. The veterans didn't mind it. Thej 
stretched their legs and wxnt swinging along, cheerful and 
happy, as if they were having a holiday. The men of the 



TAXED BEYOND ENDURANCE. 189 

200th Indiana started bravely, and for the first hour or 
two kept in fair, compact shape. 

At the outset Si groaned as he loaded himself up, and the 
straps and belts began to rub the tender spots on his body. 
But there was no limit to his pluck, and he tramped away 
with a determination to keep up with the old soldiers at 
all hazards. 

"Them fellers that's bin in the sarvice longer 'n we have 
thinks they're smart," he said to Shorty as they plodded 
on, both already alittle blown. "We'll show 'em that we 
kin scratch gravel jest 's well 's they kin." 

"Seems to me we're gittin' over the ground purty lively 
to-day," replied Shorty, who was in a grumbling mood. 
"Wonder if the Gin'ral thinks we're bosses! I'm a little 
short o' wind, and these pesky gunboats is scrapin' the 
bark off n my feet ; but I'll keep up or bust a-tryin'." 

Si soon began to limp badh% and the smarting of his feet 
became almost intolerable. But he clenched his teeth, 
humped his back to ease his shoulders from the v^eight of 
his knapsack, screwed up his courage, and trudged on 
over the stony pike. He thought the breathing spells 
were very short and a long way apart. 

Before noon the 200th began to show signs of going to 
pieces. The column stretched out longer and longer, like 
a piece of India rubber. The ranks looked thin and rag- 
ged. Lame and foot-sore, with woe-begone faces, their 
bodies aching in every part, and overcome v^ith a "weari- 
ness that no language can describe, the men dropped out 
one by one and threw themselves into the fence-corners to 
rest. The officers stormed and drew their swords in vain. 
Nature — that is, the nature of a new soldier — could endure 
no more. The ambulances were filled to their utmost, but 
these* would not hold a twentieth part of the crippled and 
suffering men. 

"How're ye gittin' on, Shorty?" said Si, as he and his 
comrade still struggled along. 



190 SI "falls out." 

"Fa'r to middlinV' replied Shorty. "I'm goin' ter pull 
through ! ' ' 

"I thought /could,'' said Si, "but I'm 'bout played out! 
I am, fer a fact ! I guess ef I rest a bit I'll be able to ketch 
up arter a while." 

Si didn't know, till he found out by experience, how 
hard it was to "ketch up '' when a soldier once got behind 
on the march. 

He crej)t up to the orderly and told him that he would 
have to stop and puff awhile and give his blisters a rest. 
He'd pull up with Company in an hour or so. 

"Better not, Si," said the orderly; "ye know it's agin 
orders, and the rear-guard '11 punch ye with their bay'nets 
if they catch ye stragglin'." 

But Si concluded that if he must die for his country it 
would be sweeter to do so by having a bayonet inserted 
in his vitals, and have it all over with at once, than t(^ 
walk himself to death. 

So he gradualh^ fell back till he reached the tail of the 
company. Watching his opportunity he left the ranks, 
crept into a clump of b ishes, and lay down. Soon the 
rear-guard of the 200th came along, with fixed bayonets, 
driving before them, like a flock of frightened sheep, a mot- 
ley cro^vd of limping, groaning men, gathered up by the. 
roadside. 

Si lay very still, hoping to escape discovery; but the 
keen eye of the officer detected the blue heap among the 
bushes. 

"Bring that man out!" he said, sternty, to one of the 
guards. 

Poor Si scarceh"- dared to breathe. He hoped the man 
would think he was dead, and therefore no longer of any 
account. But the soldier began to prod him with his 
bayonet, ordering him to get up and move on. 

"Look a-here, pard,'' said Si, "don't stab me with that 
thing! I jest can't git along any furder till I blo\v a little. 



HE KNEW HOW IT WAS HIMSELF. 



191 




You please lemme be, 'n' I'll do as miich fer you. P'r'aps 

sometime you'll git 

played out and I'll be 

on the rear-guard. The 

cap'n 11 tell meterfotch 

ye long, an' I'll jest let 

up on ye, so I will !" 

This view of the case 
struck the guard with 
some force. He was in 
much the same condi- 
tion himself, and had 
that " fellow-feeling " 
that made him "won- 
drous kind." He turned 
away, leaving Si to "don't st\b me." 

enjoy his rest. Si threw aside his traps, took off his shoes 
and stockings, and bathed his feet with water from his can- 
teen. He ate a couple 
of hardtack, and in the 
course of half an hour 
began to feel more like 

^^, ^^.egg. He put on 

' his accouterments, 
shouldered his gun, and 
started to "ketch up." 

All this time the stream 
of troops — regiments, 
brigades and divisions 
— had flowed on. Of 
course, soldiers w^ho 
were with their colors 
had the right of way, 
and the stragglers were 
obliged to stumble along 
as best they could, over the logs and through the bushes at 




i Si 



HYDROPATHIC TREATMENT. 



193 TRYING TO "ketch UP." 

the sides of the road, or skirt along the edges of the fields 
and woods adjoining. It was this fact, added to their ex- 
hausted and crippled condition, that made it almost im- 
possible for them to overtake their regiments until after 
they had halted for the night. Even then it was often 
midnight before the last of the wayfarers, weary and 
worn, reached the end of the day's journey. 

Si started forward briskly, but soon found it was no 
easy matter to gain the mile or more that the 200th In- 
diana was now ahead of him. It was about all he could 
do to keep up with the fast moving column and avoid 
falling still farther to the rear. Presently the bugles 
sounded a halt for one of the hourly rests. 

"Now, " said Si to himself, "I'll have a good chance ter 
git along tor'd the front. The soljers '11 all lie down in the 
fence corners an' leave the road clear. I'll jest git up and 
dust!" 

The sound of the bugles had scarcely died away when 
the pike was deserted ; and on either side, as far as the eye 
could reach, the prostrate men that covered the ground 
mingled in a long fringe of blue. 

Si got up into the road and started along the lane be- 
tween these lines of recumbent soldiers. His gait was a 
little shaky, but he trudged pluckily along, limping some, 
though on the whole making very good headway. 

Pretty soon he struck a veteran regiment from Illinois, 
the members of which were sitting and lying around in all 
the picturesque and indescribable attitudes Tvhich the old 
soldiers found gave them the greatest comtort during a 
"rest." Then the fun commenced — that is, it was great 
sport for the Sucker boys, though Si did not readily appre- 
ciate the humorous features of the scene. 

"What rijiment is this? " asked Si, timidly. 

"Same old rijiment ! " was the answer from half a dozen 
at once. A single glance told the swarthy veterans that 
the fresh-looking j^outli who asked this conundrum be- 



UNDER FIRE. 19j 

longed to one of the new regiments, and ttey immediately 
opened their batteries upon him ; 

"Left— Left— Left!" 

"Hayfoot— Strawfoot! Hayfoot— Strawfoot ! " keeping 
time with Si's somewhat irregular steps. 

"Grab a root! " 

"Hello, there, you! Change step an' ye '11 march easier! " 

"Here comes one o' the persimmon-knockers!" 

"Look at that 'ere poor feller; the only man left alive of 
his rijiment! Great Csesar, how they must ha' suffered! 
Say, what rijiment did ye b'long to ? " 

"Paymaster's comin', boj-s; here's a chap with a pay- 
roll 'round his neck ! " Si had put on that morning the last 
of the paper collars he had brought from home. 

"Ye'd better shet^ chat knapsack, or it'll be the death 
of ye ! ' ' 

"I say, there, how's all the folks to home? " 

"How d' ye like it 's fur 's j-e've got, anyway? " 

"Git some commissary and pour into them gunboats ! " 

" Second relief 's come boys ; we kin all go home now.'' 

"How 'd ye leave jqv sweetheart?" 

"Hep— Hep— Hep!" 

Si had never been under so hot a fire before. He stood it 
as long as he could, and then stopped. 

"Halt!" shouted a chorus of voices. "Shoulder- 
Arms ! Order— Arms ! ' ' 

By this time Si's wrath was at the boiling point. Cast- 
ing around him a look of defiance, he exclaimed : 

"Ye cowardly blaggards ; I kin jest lick any two on ye, 
an' I'll dare ye to come on. Ef the 200th Injianny was 
here we'd clean out the hull pack of ye quicker 'n ye kin 
saj' scat! " 

This is where Si made a mistake. He ought to have 

kept right on and said nothing. But he had to find out 

all these things by experience, as the rest of the boys did. 

All the members of the regiment now took a hand in the 



194 



SI*S ANGRY PASSIONS RISE. 



game. They got right up and j^elled, discharging at Si a 
Yo!ley of expletives and pointed remarks that drove him 
to desperation. Instinctively he brought up his gun. 

"Load in nine times — Load ! '' shouted the tramps. 

If Si's gun had been loaded he would have shot some* 
body, regardless of consequences. Thinking of his bayonet, 
he jerked it quickh^ from its scabbard. 

" Fix — Bay'net ! " yelled the ragged veterans. 




SI BEFIES A REGIMENT OF VETERANS. 

And he did, though it was more from the promptings of 
his own hostile feelings than in obedience to the orders. 

" Charge— Bay'net ! " 

Si had completely lost control of himself in his overpow ■ 
ering rage. With blood in his eye, he came to a ''charge," 
glancing fiercely from one side of the road to the other, 
uncertain where to begin the assault. 

Instantly there was a loud clicking all along the Ime 
The Illinois soldiers, almost to a man, fixed their bayonets. 
Half of them sprang to their feet, and aimed their shin- 



HE MAKES A GOOD RESOL,UTION. 195 

ing points at the poor little Hoosier patriot, filling the air 
with shouts of derision. 

It was plain, even to Si in his inflamed state of mind 
that the odds against him were too heavy. 

" Unfix— Bay'net ! " they yelled. 

Si concluded he had better get out of a bad scrape the 
best way he could. So he took off his baj^onet and put it 
back in its place. He shouted defiant words at his tor- 
mentors, but they could not be heard in the din. 

"Shoulder — Arms! Right — Face! Right shoulder shift 
— Arms! Forward — March!" These commands came in 
quick succession from the ranks amidst roars of laughter. 

Si obeyed the orders and started off. 

" Left— Left— Left ! Hayfoot— Strawfoot ! ' ' 

Forgetting his blisters. Si took the double-quick, while 
the mob swung their caps and howled with delight. 

Si didn't "ketch up" with the 200th Indiana until it had 
been some time in bivouac. Shorty had a quart of hot coffee 
waiting for him. 

"Shorty," said Si, as they sat by the fire, "I'm goin' ter 
drop dead in my tracks 'fore I'll fall out agin." 

" Wh}^ what's the matter? " 

"Oh, nothin' ; only you jest try it, ' ' said Si. 

Had it not been for the occasional "fun" the soldiers 
had in the army to brighten their otherwise dark and 
cheerless lives, they would all have died. They made the 
most of every opportunity, and Si was a true type of those 
who had to suffer for the good of others until they learned 
wisdom in the school of experience. 



CHAPTER XV. 

How Si Wrestled with the Hardtack — Some Remarks on thb 
Soldier's Bill of Fare. 

THE one thing that troubled SiKlegg more than every- 
thing else during the first few weeks of his service in 
the army v/as his appetite. It was a very robust, healthy 
one that Si had, for he had never known what it v^^as to be 
hungry without abundant means at hand to satisfy his 
cravings. His mother's cupboard was never in the conditioo 
of Old Mother Hubbard's, described in the nursery rhyme. 
His flourishing state at the time he enlisted showed that he 
had been well fed, and that nature had made good use of 
the ample daily supplies that were provided. His digestive 
organs were kept in perfect condition by constant exercise. 

During the short time that the 200th Indiana lay in 
camp before starting on its first campaign there had been 
no lack. The toothsome dainties that had been so lavishly 
provided by the home-folk supplemented the plentiful 
rations of soft bread, meat, coffee, beans, etc., furnished by 
the commissary department, and Si enjoyed a continual 
feast. When he was put on campaign diet he had a hard 
struggle to bring his rebellious stomach into a state of 
subjection. He began to realize what it was to suffer for 
his country. 

When the regiment got orders to pull out. Company Q 
drew several boxes of hardtack that the boys had heard 
so much about. As the orderly pried open the boxes pre- 

196 



'aTvL that glitters is not gold. 



197 



paratory to distributing the " staff of life," they gathered 
around, eager to gratify their curiosity. 

"Them looks 's ef they was reel nice— jest like sody 
crackers. I don't b'lieve the grub 's goin' ter be so bad 
arter all." 

Si said this with a smile of serene satisfaction, as he 
stood looking at the long rows of crackers standing 
edgewise. 

"Better taste one an' see how ye like it ! " said a ragged 
Indiana veteran who had 



come over to see the boys 
of the 200th and hear the 
latest news from "God's 
country." 

It happened that this lot 
was one of extra quality 
as to hardness. The baker's 
watch had stopped, or he 
had gone to sleep, and they 
had been left in the oven or 
dry-kiln too long. Si took 
one of them and carried it % 
to his mouth. He first tried 
to bite it in the same way 
that he would a quarter 
section of custard pie, but 
his incisors made no more 




A TEST OF JAW-POWER. 



impression upon it than if it had been cast-iron. 

" Yell have ter b'ar down hard," said the veteran, with 
a grim smile. 

" Je-ru-sa-/em ! '' exclaimed Si, after he had made two or 
three attempts, equally barren of results. 

Then he tried his "back teeth." His molars were in 
prime order, and his jaw power was sufficient to crack a 
hickory nut ever}^ time. Si crowded one corner of the 
hardtack as far as he could between his grinders, where he 



198 



DESPERATE MEASURES. 



could get a good purchase on it, shut his eyes, and turned 
on a full head of steam. His teeth and jaws fairly creaked 
under the strain, but it gave no sign of yielding. 

"Ef that ain't old pizen ! " he said. "It beats anything 
I ever seen up in the Wabash country." 

But his blood was up, and laying the cracker upon a log 
he brought the butt of his gun down upon it with the force 
of a sledge-hammer. 

"I thought I'd fix 
ye," he said, as he 
picked up the frag- 
ments and tried his 
teeth upon the smal- 
ler ones. After chew- 
ing upon them for two 
or three minutes he felt 
qualified to give a just 
verdict. 

"Wall — I'll — be — 

dumed! I didn't spose 

I'd got ter live on 

sich low-down fodder 

's that. The guvy- 

ment must think I'm 

a gi'ist-mill. I'd jest 

's soon be a billy-goat 

'n' eat circus-posters 

'n' tomater-cans 'n* 

old hoopskirts." 

**Ye'll get used to 't arter a while, same 's we did," said 

the veteran. ' ' Ye'll see the time when ye'll be mighty glad 

to get as hard a tack as that !" 

Si's heart sank almost into his shoes at the prospect, 
for the taste of his mother's pie and Annabel's fruit cake 
were yet fresh in his mouth. But he was fully bent on 
being a loyal and obedient soldier, determined to make 




THE LAST RESORT. 



EXPERIMENTING. 



199 



the best of everything, without anj^ more "kicking" than 
was theinaHenable right of every man who wore a uniform. 

Si went to bed hungry the first night of the march, an 
affliction he had never before suffered. Impelled by the 
gnawings of his aj^petite he made repeated assaults upon 
the hardtack, bvit the result was wholly insufficient to 
satisfy the longings of his stomach. Before going to bed 
he began to exercise his ingenuity on various schemes to 
reduce the hardtack to a condition in which it would be 
more gratifying to his taste and better suited to the means 
with which nature had 
provided him for digest- 
ing his rations. Naturally 
Si thought that soaking 
in water would have a 
beneficial effect. So he laid 
five or six of them in the 
bottom of his frying-pan, 
anchored them down with 
a stone, and covered them 
■with v^ater. 

He felt a little blue as he 
lay curled up under his 
blanket. Rethought some 
about his mother and sister 
Maria and pretty Annabel, 
but he thought a good 
deal more about the beef 
and potatoes, the pies and the puddings, that were 
so plentifully spread upon the table at home. While 
he was thinking it over, before he went to sleep, there 
came to his mind uses to which it seemed to him the hard- 
tack might be put, which would be much more consistent 
with its nature than to palm it off on the soldiers as 
alleged food. He believed he could now understand 
why. when he enlisted, the doctor examined'his teeth so 




THE EFFECT OF "GETTING USED 
TO IT." 



200 SCHEMES OF USEFULNESS. 

carefull}^, as if he was going to buy him for a mule. He 
had been told that it was necessary to have good teeth in 
order to bite "catridges " successfully, but now he knew it 
was with reference to his ability to eat hardtack. 

Si didn't want to be killed if he could help it. While he 
was lying there he thought what a good thing it would 
be to line one of his shirts with army crackers, and put 
that on whenever there "was going to be a fight. He 
didn't believe the bullets would go through them. He 
wanted to do all he could toward paralyzing the rebels, 
and \vith such a protection he could be very brave, while 
his comrades were being mowed down around him. The 
idea of having such a shirt struck Si as being a brilliant 
one. The peddler's patent breastplate would be nothing 
to it. 

Then he thought hardtack would be excellent for half- 
soling his shoes. He didn't think they would ever \vear 
out. If he ran short of ammunition he could ram pieces 
of hardtack into his gun, and he had no doubt they would 
do terrible execution in the ranks of the enemy. 

All these things, and many more, Si thought of, until 
finally he was lost in sleep. Then he dreamed that some- 
body was trying to cram stones down his throat. 

In the morning Si went to look after the crackers he had 
put to soak the night before. He thought he had never 
felt so hungry in his life. He fished them out and carefully 
inspected them, to note the result of the submerging and 
to figure out the chances on his much-needed breakfast. 

It would be unnecessary to describe to any old soldier 
the condition in which Si found those crackers. For th" 
information of any who never soaked a hardtack it may 
be said that they ^vere transformed, to all appeara.nces, 
into sole-leather. They were flexible, but as tough as the 
hide that was 

" Found in tlie vat ^vhen the tanner died." 
Si tried to'bite off a piece to see what it was like, but he 



A DISH OF "lOBSCOUSE." 201 

couldn't get his teeth through it. In sheer desperation he 
laid it on a log, drew his Sunday school bowie-knife, and 
chopped off a corner. He put it in his mouth, but found it 
as tasteless as cold codfish. 

He thought he would try the fr^ang pan. He cut the 
hardtack into bits, put in some water and two or three 
slices of bacon, sifted over the mixture a little salt and 
pepper, and then gave it a thorough frying. His spirits 
rose during the gradual development of this scheme, as it 
seemed to offer a good prospect for his morning meal. 
When it came to the eating, he found it good, compara- 
tively speaking, though it was very much like a dish com- 
pounded of the sweepings from around a shoemaker's 
bench. A good appetite v^as indispensable to a real en- 
joyment of it, but Si had the appetite, and he ate it with 
a thankful heart. 

"I thought I'd get the bulge on them things some way 
erruther," said Si, as he drank the last of his coffee and 
arose from his meal, feeling like a giant refreshed with new 
wine. 

For the next two or three months Si largely devoted his 
surplus energies to further experimenting with the hard- 
tack. He applied every conceivable process of cookery he 
could think of, that was possible with the outfit at his 
command in the way of utensils and materials. Nearly 
all of his patient and persevering efforts resulted only in 
vexation of spirit. He continued to eat hardtack from 
day to day, in various forms, but it was only because he 
had to do it — it was that or nothing. 

Si's chronic aversion to the hardtack was not fully over- 
come until he went through another "experience." It fell 
upon a day that the line of communication was broken 
by the enemy and the cracker supply was cut off. The 
commissary happened to have a lot of flour on hand, and 
this was issued to the men for a week. 

"That 11 be tip-top," Si said to Shorty. 



202 RATIONS OF FLOUR. 

" How ye goin' ter cook it ? " asked Shorty. 

Si had not thought as far as that. At the moment he 
only remembered the delicious bread and biscuit that his 
mother and sister Maria used to make. It did not occur 
to him, until suggested by Shorty's practical question, 
that in his case both the skill and the means by which so 
desirable a result could be attained were wholly wanting. 

"I guess we kin manage it some way," he said, hopefully. 

To get that flour into eatable shape, with the extremely 
meager facilities at his command, proved a severe strain 
upon Si's culinary resources. The fearful flapjacks that he 
made, and the lumps of dough, mixed with cold water and 
dried on flat stones before the fire, as hard as cannon-balls, 
wrought sad havoc with his internal arrangements. Dur- 
ing that week he w^as a frequent visitor at the doctor's 
tent, where he was liberally dosed with blue-mass. 

"Ther' ain't nothin' so good as hardtack," said Shorty. 

By this time Si thought so too. He had had enough of 
flour, and hailed with delight the reappearance of the ex- 
asperating but wholesome hardtack. The only grumbling 
he afterward did on this score was "when, owing to the 
exigencies of the service, he could not get as much of it as 
he wanted. About six months taught him, what all the 
soldiers learned by experience, that the best way to eat the 
Jiardtack was to take it "straight''— just as it came out 
of the box. When the crackers were extra hard they were 
softened — a curious fact — by toasting, and in no other way 
could this be satisfactorily accomplished. The soaking 
and frying and stewing w^ere but a delusion and a snare^ 

Early in the war there was a benevolent but Utopian 
scheme to supply the soldiers with "soft bread" while en- 
gaged in active campaigning. Inventive genius produced 
a great bake-oven on wheels, that could be hauled around 
and fired up whenever the troops halted. In the goodness 
of its heart the United States government ordered several 
hundred of these perambulating ovens, equipped them in 



THE BAKE-OVEN ON WHEELS. 203 

gay style with mules and drivers and scientific bakers, and 
distributed th'em around, one to each regiment. At first the 
boys thought they were a great thing, and they were — for 
the contractor who furnished them. . They started out in 
fine trim and for a few^days, whentheroads were good, they 
kept up wnth the army and turned out loaves by the hun- 
dred. The troops were in high feather at the j^rospect. 
True, the bread was often sour and sodden, but the new 
soldiers ate it thankfully, under the mistaken idea that it 
was better than hardtack. The bread went rapidly from 
bad to worse. Sometimes the unwieldy machine would 
stick in the mud and perhaps not reach camp till midnight; 
or the baker would so far forget his duty to his suffering 
country as to get drunk, and then there would be no bread, 
good or bad. With their full rations of flour the soldiers, 
at such times, had no hardtack to fall back upon, and to 
avert a disastrous famine they were forced to make such 
shift as they could by cooking, each for himself, in themo.st 
rude and primitive manner. So the pleasing illusion of the 
traveling baker^^ was gradually dispelled, and there was a 
sad awakening from the dream of soft bread. One by one 
the ponderous vehicles got out of repair, or were capsized 
and wrecked, or were abandoned as a useless incum- 
brance. They had wholly disappeared before the 200th 
Indiana took the field. 

Si did not have such serious trouble wnth that other sta- 
ple of army diet, which was in fact the inseparable com- 
panion and complement of the hardtack. It took its most 
popular name from that part of the body of the female swine 
which is usually nearest the ground. Much of Si's muscle 
and brawn w^as due to the fact that meat had always been 
plenty at home. When he enlisted he w^as not entirely free 
from anxiety on the question of meat, for to him it w^as 
not even second in importance to bread. If bread was the 
"staffof life,'' meat was life itself. It didn't make much 
difference what kind it was, only f o it w^as meat. He 



204 



CONCERNING SWINE S FLESH. 



rr 



didn't suppose Uncle Sana would keep him supplied with 
quail on toast and porterhouse steaks all the time, but he 
did hope he would give him as much as he wanted of some- 
thing in that line. 

"Ye won't git much 'sides pork, 'nless ye're a good for- 
ager," said Shorty to him one day, when they were giving 
the subject thoughtful consideration. 

Si thought he might, with practice and a little encour- 
agement, be fairly successful in foraging, but he said he 

wouldn't grumble if he 
could only get plenty of 
pork. Fortunately for 
him he had not been im- 
bued with the teachings 
of the Hebraic dispensa- 
tion, which declared ' ' un- 
clean " the beast that 
furnished so much food 
for the American sol- 
diers. 

Before starting on the 
march, the bacon receiv- 
ed by Company Q was 
of prime quality, and Si 
thought it would always 
be so. 




THE FLESH OF SWINE. 



"I don't see nothin' the matter with sich grub as that!'* 
he said. "Looks to me 's though we was goin' ter live 
like fightin' cocks." 

"Ye're jest a little bit brash," said his veteran friend. 
"Better eat all ye kin lay yer hands on now, while j^e've 
got a chance. One o' these days ye'U git 'n a tight 
place 'n' ye won't see 'nough hog's meat in a week ter 
grease a griddle. I've bin thar, myself! Jest look at me 
and see what short rations '11 bring ye to." 

But Si thought he wouldn't try to cross a bridge till he 



A CAUSE OF INFLAMMATION. 



205 



got to it, nor lie awake nights worr^'ing over troubles that 
were 3'et in the future. He had a philosophical streak in 
his mental make up, which was a good thing for a soldier. 
"Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof," was an excel- 
lent rule for him to follow. 

So Si assimilated all the pork that fell to his share, with 
an extra bit now and then from a comrade w^hose appetite 
was less vigorous, and thrived under it. No scientific pro- 
cesses of cookery w^ere necessary to prepare it for imme- 
diate use. A simple broiling or {rymg or toasting was all 
that was required. 



Sometimes fresh beef 
was issued. It is^true 
that the animals slain 
for the soldiers were 
not always fat and 
tender, nor did each of 
them have four hind- 
quarters. This last fadl 
was the direct cause of 
a good deal of inflam- 
mation in the 200th 
Indiana, as in every 
other regiment. The 
boys w^ho got sections 
of the forward part of 
the "critter," usually about three-quarters bone, aKvays 
growled, and fired peppery remarks at those who got the 
juicy steaks from the- rear portion of the animal. Then, 
when their turn came for a piece of hind-quarter, the other 
fellow's would grumble. Four-fifths of them generally had 
to content themselves with a skinny rib or a soup-shank. 
Si shared the common lot, and did his full quota of 
grumbling because his "turn" for a slice of steak didn't 
come every time beef was issued. 

The flesh of the swine was comparatively free from this 




A SIMPLE PROCESS. 



206 



THE HAM MYSTERY EXPLAINED. 



cause of irritation. It was all alike, and was simply 
"Hobson's choice." Si remembered, however, the fragrant 
and delicious fried ham that so often garnished his mother's 
breakfast table, and sometimes wondered if the hogs 
slaughtered for the army were all "belly " and no ham, for 
he never drew any. One day he asked Shorty about it. 

"Thunder!" was the answer. "Hams don't grow fer 
anybody but ossifers ! ' ' 

"Oh,"said Si, "I didn't think o' that. Pity we can't all 
be ossifers ! ' ' 

Now and then a few pigs' shoulders were handed around 

among the bovs, but the 



large proportion of bone 
they contained was ag- 
gravating, and was the 
cause of much profanit3\ 
There were times when, 
owing to circumstances 
which it could not control, 
the army in the field was 
put on short rations. Of- 
ten in these straits bacon 
was issued that had out- 
lived its usefulness, except, 
perhaps, for the manufac- 
ture of soap. Improperly 
cured, it was strong and 
"all right, boss, dat's a go." rancid, and sometimes so 
near a condition of putrefaction that the stench from it 
offended the nostrils of the whole camp. At other times it 
was full of "skippers," that tunneled their way through 
and through it and grew fat with riotous living. Si in 
time reached the point where he could eat almost any- 
thing, but he drew the line at putrid and maggoty meat. 
Whenever he got any of this he would trade it off to the 
darkies for chickens. 




COFFEE, THE SOLDIER'S ELIXIR. 207 

Bj a gradual process of development his palate became 
so educated that he could eat his fat pork perfectly raw. 
During a brief halt when on the march he would squat in 
a fence corner, go down into his haversack for supplies, 
cut a slice of bacon, lay it on a hardtack, and munch them 
with a keen relish. 

Not less indispensable to the soldier than either of the 
articles already mentioned was coffee. If he had a reason- 
able supply'of these three the veteran was satisfied, even 
though for weeks at a time he got nothing else. It would 
be difficult to decide which he prized most ; but it is safe to 
say that if forced to strike one of them from the bill of 
fare, not one in a hundred would have marked out coffee. 
If hardtack or bacon ran short, it could be eked out with 
odds and ends picked up by foraging, but there was noth- 
ing to take the place of coffee. It was an elixir to the 
weary body and drooping spirit after a fatiguing march ; 
it warmed the soldier into new life when soaked by drench- 
ing rains or chilled by winter's cold. There was usually 
sugar enough to sweeten the draught, but if this ran out 
it made little difference. The men soon learned to drink it 
without any "trimmings." The refreshing and invigor- 
ating effect that made it more than drink was the same, 
though the taste was not pampered by sugar and milk. 
The latter was only seen at rare intervals, and hj a fortu- 
nate few. Cows were never plenty in the South, and the 
lavages of war for two or three j-ears made them exceed- 
ingly scarce. Now and then a forager filled his canteen 
with milk, and a dash of it in the cofifee-cujDS of his com- 
rades gave to the beverage a doubl}^ delicious flavor. Oc- 
casionally a can of "condensed milk" was recklessly 
bought of the sutler, at the price of a week's wages. 

As a general thing, coffee was issued to the arm 3^ roasted, 
but unground. This was the most convenient form for 
transportation in sacks or barrrels. More than that, it 
insured to the soldier the genuine article. Had ground 



208 CONFEDERATE BEVERAGES. 

coffee been furnished, the virtue of the contractors would 
hardly have been proof against the temptation to put 
monc}^ in their pockets by liberal adulteration. Whatever 
strength it had would soon have wasted by evaporation. 
So it was sent down in the berr^^ by the hundred thousand 
pounds, and the bayonet and tin-cup served for crushing 
purposes. 

Foraging never yielded coffee, because during the war 
the people of the " Confederacy" had none'to speak of. 
They were always eager to get it in the way of "dicker." 
"When the Union soldiers drew full rations they often had 
more coffee than they needed, and with the surplus they 
could buy whatever anybody had to sell. Chiccory, peas 
and even beans were used for the Confederate army, as 
very poor and stale substitutes. During brief periods of 
"grace, mercy and peace" between the hostile pickets, 
commercial relations were often established. The men in 
gray gladly exchanged tobacco, of which they had plenty, 
for coffee. The former was often scarce among the chewers 
and smokers in the Union army, and such a barter was 
equally satisfactory to both. 

Another beverage that used to cheer but not inebriate, 
was bean-soup. The army bean will be remembered to the 
end of life's longest span as one of the features of the war 
period. It was not that the beans which found their way 
to the front were radically different from contemporaneous 
beans, or from those of the present day — it was the cook- 
ing and its results that caused the bean to be so deeply 
imbedded in the soldier's memory. It will readily be ad- 
mitted that beans skillfully baked and flavored on the Bos- 
ton plan are seductive, wholesome and nutritious. It may 
be charitably believed that whoever gave the flatulent bean 
a place in the army ration was deluded with the New Eng- 
land idea. Owing to the lack of facilities for cooking, how- 
ever, particularly during active campaigns, it proved a 
vexatious disappointment. Soldiers lying long in camp 



THE ARMY BEAN. 209 

were partially successful in their prolonged struggle with 
the beati. In some cases ovens were built that yielded sat- 
isfactory returns. But soup was the almost universal form 
in which the bean was prepared. And such soup as most 
of it was ! If a camp-kettle could be had it was usually 
made in a wholesale way to supply a mess or an entire 
comj^any. The men took their turns at such kinds of 
cooking, and there were as many radically different var- 
ieties of bean-soup as there were men to make it. No 
two of them ever tasted alike, and it was hard to tell 
which was the worst. It was not more than half cooked, 
or else it was burnt; it was as thick as pudding, or the 
ratio of water to beans was so large as to make it pitifully 
feeble ; it was either salty enough to pickle pork in, or the 
cook that day had forgotten to season it at all ; one cook 
poured in vinegar to suit his own erratic taste and spoiled 
it for everybody else; one didn't put in any pork, while 
another boiled so much grease into the soup that it could 
be taken into few stomachs with safety, So it was that a 
kettle of bean-soup rarely failed to set everybody to grum- 
bling. As the men filed past and clipped their cups into the 
kettle, they turned up their noses and snified contempt- 
uously and indulged the most pointed remarks reflecting 
upon the skill of the cook who had made such a mess. Dur- 
ing the weeks and months of marching and fighting the 
bean fell into disuse. It was "every man for himself," and 
if beans were issued at all — which was notoften-^each man 
was forced to put his little handful into his coffee-kettle and 
make his own soup. One disadvantage of this necessity 
was that if the soup did not suit him he was deprived of 
the pleasure of grumbling at somebody else. If, at such 
times, rations were short the soldier contrived some way 
to utilize his beans ; if he had plenty of other food he threw 
them away. 

Rice was issued at stated periods when the proper con- 
nections were kept up and things ran smoothly. It was a 



210 "desecrated" vegetables. 

healthy article of diet, but the cooking caused almost as 
much tribulation as in the case of the bean. An inexperi- 
enced hand, ignorant of its habit of "swelling," would fill 
his kettle with rice and hang it over the fire. Pretty soon 
it would begin to flow over the top and down the sides of 
the kettle like the eruption of a volcano, while the ama- 
teur cook looked on in amazement. 

The pungent and tear-starting onion was a favorite 
esculent. Few of them found their way to the front, how- 
ever, till the last year or two of the war, when thousands 
of barrels were sent to the soldiers by the sanitarj^ com- 
mission. The doctors said the\' were good to prevent 
scurvy. They were not a part of the -ration furnished by 
the government. Onions were seized with avidity and 
eaten, generally raw, with a keen zest. 

In the fall of 1863 the soldiers in the field began to re- 
ceive queer looking slabs about a foot square and an inch 
thick. The many colors and shapes of their component 
parts gave them much the appearance of the modern 
"crazy quilt." At first they were a stubborn conundrum 
to the boys, who, after a critical inspection with e\^e and 
nose, concluded they must be some new style of forage for 
the mules. They were "desiccated vegetables," for the 
human stomach. They contained a little of almost every- 
thing in the vegetable world — potatoes, corn, cabbage, 
beets, carrots, parsnips, onions, peppers, etc., to the end 
of the list, together with what seemed to be cornstalks, 
potato-tops and pea-vines. The ingredients were cut 
into sHces and mixed with the utmost impartiality. They 
were pressed by steam or hydraulic power into cakes of 
the size described, and thoroughly dried. In this form 
they would "keep " for an indefinite time. Every drop of 
juice was squeezed or evaporated out of them, so that 
there was little left except the fiber. The veterans made 
no end of sport of the motley mixture. Its scientific name 
was immediately changed to "desecrated" or "conse- 



THE REGULAR "RATION." 211. 

crated " vegetables, and it was rarely called by any other. 
But they liked the soup it made. This was both palatable 
and nourishing, and was a most welcome change from the 
stereotyped fare. It "swelled" in the kettle even more 
than rice. A cubic inch of the " stuif " would make a quart 
of soup. 

It may interest the reader fo give the "ration" — the 
established daily allowance of food for one person — as pro- 
vided by the army regulations at that time. It was com- 
posed as follows: twelve ounces of pork or bacon or 
twenty ounces of salt or fresh beef; twenty-two ounces of 
soft bread or flour, or one pound of hard bread — [hard- 
tack] — or twenty ounces of corn meal ; and to every one 
hundred men fifteen pounds of beans or peas, ten pounds 
of rice or hominy, eight pounds of roasted coffee, or 
twenty-four ounces of tea, fifteen pounds of sugar, four 
quarts of vinegar, twenty ounces of candles, four pounds 
of soap, four pounds of salt, four ounces of pepper, thirty 
pounds of potatoes and one quart of molasses. This was 
the ration as it existed when the war broke out. During 
the first year, he 'vever, evidently to meet the \vants of 
such lusty fellows a;. Si Klegg, Congress passed an act in- 
creasing the allowance of several of the items — notablj 
potatoes, of which each man was to have one pound thre<f" 
times a w^eek, "when practicable." This sounded well, 
but the condition spoiled it. Rarely indeed was it "prac 
ticable" to issue a pound of potatoes once in six months. 
The only potatoes the soldiers in the field had were those 
they got by foraging. Tea, as an optional alternative for 
coffee, did not figure largely in the war. A few nice young 
men fresh from home called for it, but the veteran spoke 
of it only with scorn. Tea was too " thin " a beverage on 
which to put down the rebellion. Most of the less impor- 
tant items in the "ration ' were onlv seen aL lonij inter- 
vals during the last or "fighting" year. It was hardtack. 



212 THE SUTLER. 

bacon and coffee, with sugar and salt for condiments, that 
furnished the nerve and muscle to carry on the war. 

Like all raw soldiers. Si Klegg learned with exceeding 
great joy, that there was such a person in the army as the 
sutler. It was usually many weeks — months in some 
cases — before the new troops could become reconciled to 
the regulation diet, and this gave the sutler his oppor- 
tunity. He reaped a rich harvest and made a fortune, pro- 
vided he had a fair chance at a new regiment for six months. 
But his business enterprise had its drawbacks. When the 
army was on the jump he often had a hard time of it. He 
usually had a couple of large wagons, in which he trans- 
ported his goods and the big tent that he pitched as often 
as circumstances would permit. Of course he had to fur- 
nish his own teams, and half a dozen men, black andw^hite, 
to manage them and do his work. He always had to look 
outforhimself andtake his own chances. A sutler's wagon 
was a "bonanza" to a band of rebel "looters," and he 
often suffered in this way from the capture of his entire 
outfit. This was, however, but a temporary reverse, for 
he would mark up the prices on his next load of goods and 
thvis retrieve his loss. 

If his wagons stuck in the mud, or his mule-power was 
insufficient to pull them up a steep hill, the boys might 
lend a hand to help him out ; but if they did they wanted a 
good share of what he had as compensation for their ser- 
vices. If he demurred they would settle the matter by 
helping themselves. He was regarded as an Ishmaelite, 
and every man's hand w^as against him. If a v^agon cap- 
sized, the scattered boxes and cans and bottles of eatables 
and drinkables were deemed legitimate plunder, and a 
nightly fora}^ upon the "shebang" was considered justi- 
fiable larceny. When the soldiers ran out of money the 
sutler issued "checks," to be redeemed the next pay-day. 
When a battle intervened, or the hardships of campaign- 
ing sent scores to the hospitals, the sutler failed to realize. 



"orderlies for your mail." 213 

Then up would go the prices again, to make good the def- 
icit. The sutler did not like the smell of powder, and 
■when a fight ^vas imminent he prudently stayed behind. 
When all was quiet again he would crack his whip, push 
to the front, and open up his seductive stock. The sutler 
of a full, new regiment sometimes took desperate chances 
in following it closely, for the money rolled in at a rate 
most gratif^ang to that worshiper of mammon. When 
the paymaster was around he never failed to be there. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

Si Gets a Letter from Axnabel and Answers It under Difficulties. 

i i /''"X RDERLIES for your mail !" shouted the sergeant- 

V y major of the 200th Indiana one afternoon. The 

regiment had just turned into a tobacco patch to bivouac 
for the night. It had been marching for a week, and this 
was the first mail that had caught up with it. During all 
this time the boj's had not heard a word from their moth- 
ers, sisters, wives and sweethearts. It w^as only a fortnight 
since they left home, but it seemed to them as if they had 
been gone a year. If Si Klegg had been Robinson Crusoe 
he could not have felt more lonesome and forsaken. 

The easfcrness of the soldiers to receive letters could have 
been equaled only by the anxious watching of those at home 
for tidings froin their loved ones. There was no literature 
in the army ^vorth mentioning. The men were not long in 
learning that they could not carry books on their backs. 
There was nothing in the way of reading matter for those 
in active service save an occasional volume picked up here 
or there, or a chance ncwspajDcr, generally a week or two 
old. These circulated among the soldiers until they were 



214 LETTER-WRITING IN THE ARMY. 

literally read to pieces. Correspondence and "keeping 
diaries " were the means resorted to by thousands to while 
away hours and days that would otherwise have hung 
heavily. There was never a lack of "something to write 
about," although circumstances were often unfavorable. 
Frequently, for weeks at a time, only the briefest letters 
were possible. In moments snatched during intervals of 
respite from duty — in a fence-corner, while resting from the 
march, or during the "off" hours of guard and picket; 
under the blazing sun, or in drizzling rain; bythelightof a 
bit of candle stuck in the shank of a bayonet, or the flame 
of the camp-fire, a vast multitude of messages of affection 
and friendship were written. 

Writing materials were often scarce — sometimes they 
could not be procured at all. He was fortunate who had 
pen and ink; generally a pencil w^as used, going around 
from one to another until worn out. In times of scarcity 
odd bits of paper, of every kind and color, were pressed 
into the service. The envelopes of letters received were 
"turned " and sent back to Northern homes inclosing mis- 
sives from the front. The sutlers kept supplies of station- 
ery, which they sold at a profit of about a thousand per 
cent., but they did not often "show up" during active 
campaigns. The soldiers could not get far enough to the 
rear to find them. Postage-stamps were a necessity, for 
Uncle Sam did not relax his thrifty rule requiring prepay- 
ment. At times it was almost impossible to obtain them, 
and they commanded a high premium. To keep the boys 
supplied with stationery — or to try, at least — was consid- 
ered to be one of the duties of the chaplains. Few of them 
had a chance to preach a great deal, so they did not have 
to spend much time in theological study. Many devoted 
themselves very faithfully to the temporal comforts of the 
men ; some drew their pay with great promptness, three- 
fourths of the time far in the rear. The constant demand 
for stationery was partially met by supplies sent to the 



CARRYING THE MAILS. 215 

soldiers bj their friends, but these were freely shared with 
comrades and soon disappeared. 

Great irregularity in the transmission of the mails was 
unavoidable. When h'ing quietly in camp, on or near a 
line of railroad, a daily mail was the rule, with occasional 
exceptions when a body of the enemy's cavalry swooped 
down and captured a train, tore up the track, or burned 
a bridge. In the confusion following a great battle, a week 
or ten days sometimes elapsed before letters reached the 
soldiers, or any could be sent by them to relieve the sus- 
pense of their friends at home. On the long campaigns, 
when the army was constantly shifting about, miles from 
its line of communication, mails rarely averaged oftener 
than once a week ; frequently no letters w^ere received or 
sent for two or three weeks at a time. Enormous quanti- 
ties then accumulated, and when opportunity offered were 
sent to the front b}' the wagon load and distributed to the 
various corps, divisions and brigades. Each of these had 
its postmaster, whose duty it was to attend to the distri- 
bution and collection of mail matter. During the last year 
or two of the w^ar the postal service of the army reached 
a high state of efficiency, affording to the soldiers every 
facility that circumstances would permit for communicat- 
ing with their friends. Efforts to this end were well ap- 
plied, for nothingcontributed more to promote cheerfulness 
and content among the soldiers. 

When the intervals were long, much anxiety and impa- 
tience were manifested. Perhaps toward the close of a 
fatiguing day's march the long-looked-for brigade post- 
master was seen on a sprightly mule, galloping beside the 
toiling column. 

"Mail when jovi git to camp, boys ! " 

Then what a wild yell went up ! How the weary men 
straightened their backs and stretched away for the halt- 
ing place ! No general was ever received with more tumult- 
uous huzzas than was the brigade postmaster. 



216 



AT THE FRONT. 



Sometimes the mail was taken to the front and dis- 
tributed to the men as they stood in the trenches. The 
shouts that greeted the orderlies with their armfuls of 
letters were enough to make the rebels quake in their shoes. 
Then if word was passed along the line that the mail 
would "go out " in a couple of hours, everybody engaged 




"mail when you git to camp, boys!" 

in the quest for writing materials. Hastily they indited 
their messages, in all conceivable postures — standing, sit 
ting, kneeling or lying flat upon the ground— perhaps 
now and then dropping the pencil and taking up the 
musket to fire at a "Johnny" who was getting too free 
with his bullets. Occasionally a mail was captured by the 
enemy. Tidings of such a calamity generally prompted 



' UNKNOWN CORRESPONDENTS. 



21' 



tlie boys to put an extra charge or two of powder into 
their guns by way of revenge. 

Thousands of soldiers had "unknown" correspondents 
of the tender sex, scattered all over the North, the result 
of advertising in the newspapers. It may be admitted 
that under ordinary conditions such a custom ought not to 
he encouraged, as trenching on dangerous ground ; still it 
is true that in the great majority of cases the corresjDond- 




EPISTOLARY WORK IN THE TRENCHES. 



ence of this kind during the war was innocent and harm- 
less. The soldiers in long periods of inaction needed enter- 
tainment and occupation, and hundreds of thousands of 
patriotic and sympathetic young women were ready to 
aid them through the medium of pen, ink and postage 
stamps. A single insertion of "Wanted, correspondence '' 
in a largely circulating paper, often brought a shov/er of 
two or three dozen dainty missives. To answer them all 
would keep their recipient busy for a week. No doubt 



218 DIARIES THAT LIVED AND DIED. 

some of tliese epistolary acquaintanceships maiured into 
the closest and dearest relations when the war was over; 
though it is not probable that more than one m a hundred 
gave to such correspondence a thought be3^ond a passing 
pleasure, spiced with a flavor of romance. If some of the 
soldiers secured good wives in this irregular waj- it was 
well, for is it not a recognized axiom that "none but the 
brave deserve the fair? " 

Nearly every soldier started out with a firm determina- 
tion to keep a diary, and began the daily record with com- 
mendable zeal. Possibly one in fifty held out faithful to 
the end. It was easy enough to do it while Ijang in camp, 
but on a hard campaign the diary would get so far behind 
that it was too great a job to bring up the arrears, and 
the enterprise was very likely to be abandoned in disgust. 
Another discouraging feature was the fact that the acci- 
dents of marching and fighting often caused the loss of 
diaries. The persistent and methodical diary-keeper wrote 
concisely in a small book that he carried in his pocket. 
When it was full he sent it home by mail or by the hand of 
a comrade, and started a fresh one. Many were lost in 
transmission, and that man was fortunate who had both 
the perseverance to "keep up" his diary, and the good luck 
to lose none of his volumes. If the soldiers had foreseen 
the uses for such records that have been developed since 
the war, half a million diaries that died early would have 
survived. 

"Now tumble up here. Company Q, an' git yer letters! " 
yelled the orderl}', as he came down from headquarters. 

In the excitement of distributing the mail everything else 
was forgotten. The boys were all busy getting their sup- 
pers, but at the thought of letters from home even the de- 
mands of hunger were not considered. 

Si left his coffee-pot to tip over into the fire, and his 
bacon to sizzle in the frying-pan, as he elbowed his way 
i -ito the crowd that huddled around the orderlj'. 



MAIL FOR COMPANY Q. 



219 



"If there ain't more'n one letter for me," hesaidtuhim- 
self, "I hope it'll be from Annabel; but, of course, I'd like 
to hear from ma and sister Marier, too !" 

The orderly, with a big package in his hand, was calling 
out the names, and as the boys received their letters they 
scattered through the camp, squatting about on rails or 
on the ground, devouring with the greatest eagerness the 
welcome messages from home. The camp looked as if 
there had been a snow storm. 

Si waited anxiously to hear his name called, as the 
pile of letters rapidly 
grew smaller, and 
began to think he 
was going to get 
left. 

" Josiah Klegg !" 

at length shouted 

the orderl\% as he 

held out two letters. 

Si snatched them 

from his hand, went 

off by himself and 

sat down on a log. 
He looked at his 

letters and saw that 

one of them was ad- 
dressed in a pretty 




^ 



si's FIRST LETTER. 

hand. He had never received a letter from Annabel before, 
but he "felt it in his bones " that this one was from her. 
He glanced around to be certain nobody was looking at 
him, and gently broke the seal, w^hile a ruddy glow over- 
spread his beardless cheeks. But he was secure from 
observation, as everybody else was similarly intent. 

"Deer Si," the letter began. He didn't have to turn 
over to the bottom of the last page to know what name 
he w^ould find there. He read those words over and over 



220 ANNABEL'S NICE LETTER. 

a dozen times, and they set his nerves tingling clear down 
to his toe-nails. Si forgot his aches and blisters as he read 
on through those delicious lines. 

She wrote how anxious she was to hear from him, and 
how cruel it was of him not to write to her real often; 
how she lay awake nights thinking about him down 
among those awful rebels ; how she supposed that by this 
time he must be full of bullet holes; and didn't he get 
hungry sometimes, and wasn't it about time for him to 
get a furlough ? how it was just too mean for anything 
that those men down South had to get up a war; how 
proud she was of Si, because he had 'listed, and how she 
watched the newspapers everyday to see something about 
him ; how she wondered how many rebds he had killed, 
and if he had captured any batteries j^et — she said she 
didn't quite know what batteries Vk^ere, but she read a 
good deal about capturing 'em, and she supposed it was 
something all the soldiers did ; how she hoped he wouldn't 
forget her, and she'd like to see how he looked now that 
he was a real soldier, and her father had sold the old 
"mooley" cow, and Sall^^ Perkins was engaged to Jim 
Johnson, who had stayed at home, but as for herself she 
w^ouldn't have anybody but a soldier about the size of Si, 
and 'Squire Jones's son had been trying to shine up to her 
and cut Si out, but she sent him off with a flea in his ear — 
"Yours till deth, Annabel." 

There was a postscrijDt, as a matter of course; no truly 
patriotic young woman during the whole war ever wrote 
a letter to her soldier-lover without one. This contained 
an irregular diagram intended as an unsatisfactory sub- 
stitute for a kiss. She wrote that if he did not know what 
that meant she would explain it to him when he got home. 
Si was not versed in the subtleties of amatory correspond- 
ence, and the diagram was a serio'us conundrum to him. 
Once he thought he would ask Shorty about it, and thcsj 
he concluded on the whole, he had better not. 



SI HAS TO CARRY A RAIL. 



221 



The fact that there was a word misspelt now and then 
did not detract in the least from the letter, so pleasing to 
Si. In fact, he was a little lame in orthography himself, 
so that he had neither the ability nor the disposition to 
scan Annabel's pages with a critic's eye. He was happy, 
and as he began to cast about for his supper he even viewed 
with complacence his bacon burned to a crisp and his 
capsized coffee-pot helplessly melting away in the fire. 

"Well, Si, what does she say ? " said one of his comrades. 

' ' What does wh o say ? " 
replied Si, getting red in 
the face, and bristling up 
and trying to assume an 
air of indifference. 

"Just look here now. 
Si, ye can't play that on 
me. How about that 
rosy -cheeked gal up in 
Injianny ?" 

It was Si's tender spot 
He hadn't got used to 
that sort of thing yet, 
and he felt that the emo- 
tions that made his heart 
throb like a saw -mill 
were too sacred to be 
trifled with. Acting up- 
on a sudden impulse he 
smote his comrade fairly between the eyes, felling him to 
the ground. 

The orderl}^, who happened to be near, took Si by the 
ear and marched him up to the captain's quarters. 

"Have him carry a rail in front of my tent for an hour! " 
thundered the captain. " Don't let it be a splinter, either; 
pick out a good heavy one." 

The order was carried out immediately. It was very 




ANOTHER CASE OF DISCIPLINE. 



222 GETTING READY TO WRITE. 

mortifying to Si, and he would have been almost heart- 
broken had he not been comforted by the thought that it 
was all for Annabel. 

As soon as the hour was up and he had eaten supper, 
he set about answering his letter. When he cleaned out 
the surplusage from his knapsack, he had hung on to the 
pretty portfolio that his sister gave him. This was stocked 
with postage stamps and writing materials, including an 
assortment of the envelopes of the period, bearing in gaudy 
colors national emblems, stirring legends, and harrowing 
scenes of slaughter, all intended to quicken the patriotic 
emotions and make the breast of the soldier a very volcano 
of martial ardor. 

When Si got out his nice portfolio he found it to be an 
utter wreck. It had been jammed into a shapeless mass, 
and, besides this, it had been soaked with rain ; paper and 
envelopes were a pulpy ruin, and the postage stamps were 
stuck around here and there in the chaos. It was plain that 
this memento of home had fallen an early victim to the 
hardships of campaign life. 

"It's no use; 'taint no good! " said Si, sorrowfully, as 
he tossed the debris into the fire, after vainly endeavoring 
to save from the wreck enough to write his letter. 

Then he went to thesutler — or "skinner," as he was bet- 
ter known — and paid ten cents for a sheet of paper and an 
envelope, on which were the cheerful words, "It is sweet 
to die for one's country ! " and ten cents more for a 3-cent 
postage stamp. He borrowed a lead pencil, hunted up a 
piece of cracker-box, sat down and began his work by the 
flickering light of the fire. 

Deer Annie. 

There he stopped, and while he was scratching his head 
and thinking what he would say next, the orderly came 
around detailing guards for the night, and directed Klegg 
to get his traps and report at once for duty. 

"It hain't my turn," said Si. "There's Bill Brown, and 



SI GETS ON SLOWLY. 



223 



Jake Schneider, and Pat Dooley, and a dozen more— I've 
been on since they have !" 

But the orderly did not even deign to reply. Si's shoul- 
der still ached from the rail he had carried, so he quietly 
folded up his paper and took his place with the detail. 

The next morning the army moved earl}^, and Si had no 
chance to resume his letter. As soon as the regiment 
halted, after an eighteen mile march, he tackled it again. 
This time nothing better offered in the wa\^ of a writing- 
desk than a tin plate, which he placed face downward 
upon his knee. Thus pro- 
vided, Si plunged bristdy 
into the job before him, 
with the following result : 

I now take my pen in hand to 
let you no that I am well, ex- 
cept the dog-goned blisters on 
my feet, and I hope these few 
lines may find j'ou enjoyin the 
same blessins. 

Si thought this was neat 
and a good start for his 
letter. Just as he had 
caught an idea for the next 
sentence a few scattering 

shots were heard on the "sit still, please 

picket-line, and in an instant the camp was in commotion. 
Cries of "Fall in !" "Be lively, men!" were heard in every 
direction. 

Si sprang as if he had received a galvanic shock, cram' 
ming the letter into his pocket. Of course there wasn't 
any fight. It was only one of the' scares that formed so 
large a part of the early campaigns. But it spoiled Si's 
letter-writing for the time. 

It was nearlv a week before he got his letter done. He 
wrote part of it using for a desk the back of a comrade 
who was sitting asleep by the fire. He worked at it 




224 HIS LETTER TO ANNIE. 

whenever lie could catch a few minutes between the 
marches and the numerous details for duty. He said to 
Annie : 

Bein a soljer aint quite what tliey crack it up to he when thej^'re gittin 
a fellow to enlist. It's mit_v rough, and j^ou'd better beheve it. You 
ought to be glad you're a gurl and don't haf to go. I wish't I was a 
gurl, sometimes. I haven't kild enny rebbles yet. 1 haint even seen one 
except a fiew raskils that was tuk in by the critter soljers, they calls em 
eavilry Me and all the rest of the boys wants to hav a fite, but it looks 
like the Ginral was afeard, and we don't git no chance. I axed the 
Ordly couldn't he get me a furlow. The Ordly jest laft and says to me, 
Si, says he, yer don't know as much as a mule. I made one of the boys 
see stars tother night because he was a-talkin 'bout you. The Captn 
made me walk up and down for a hour with a big rail on my sholeder. 
You tell Square Joneses boy that he haint got sand enufif to jine the 
army, and if he dont keep away from you He bust his eer when I git 
home, if I ever do. Whattle you do if I shouldn't never see you agin? 
But you no this glorus Govyment must be perfected, and th'e bully 
Stars and Strips must flote, and your Si is goin to help do it. 

My pen is poor my ink is pale 

My luv for you shall never fale. 
Yours affeckshuitly, 

Si Klegg. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

In Which Si's Cherished Desire to Drive a Mule Team is Fully 

Satisfied. 



i 4 T 'VE got to have a man to drive the colonel's team for 
j_ a few days," said the orderly of Company Q one 
morning at roll-call. "The teamster's sick, and he's got 
to go to the hospital to-day." 

He didn't telltheboys what ailed the teamster, thinking, 
perhaps, that if he did no one would want to take his place. 
The fact was that the heels of the !' off-wheeler " caught 
the teamster in the pit of the stomach and doubled him up 



THE MAKE-UP OF AN ARMY TEAM. 225 

SO badljthat he wouldn't be fit for duty for a week. It was 
worse than the colic. 

"'Tisn't everybody," continued the orderly, "that's 
gifted with fust-class talent fer drivin' team. I'd like to 
find the best man to steer them animals, an' if there's a 
real scientific mule-whacker in this comp'ny let him speak 
up, and I'll detail him right off. It'll be a soft thing fer 
somebody ; them mules are daisies !" 

Somehow they didn't all speak at once. The reg- 
iment had only had its teams two or three weeks, 
but the bo3^s were not dull of hearing, and ominous sounds 
had come to them from the rear of the camp at all hours 
of the night — the maddening " Yee-haw-w-w!" of the long 
eared brutes, and the frantic ejaculations of the teamsters, 
spiced with oaths that would have sent a shudder through 
"our army in Flanders.'' 

So they did not apply for the vacant saddle with the 
alacrity that might have been expected, when so good a 
chance was offered for a soldier to ride and get his traps on 
a wagon. Whenever an infantryman threw away such 
an opportunit}' it is safe to assume that there was some 
good reason for it. 

The motive power of an army wagon usually consisted of 
six mules. Two large animals, called the * ' wheelers, " one of 
which the charioteer bestrode, were "hooked" to the wagon. 
Next were two of medium size, designated in the drivers' 
parlance as the "swing team." Ahead were two small 
mules known as the * ' leaders . ' ' These were sometimes called 
"rabbits," by reason of their diminutive size and great 
length of ears. The menagerie was * 'steered ' ' by a single line, 
fastened to the bit of the "nigh leader." The driver man- 
aged the rein with one hand and his whip with the other. 
Practice made him equally adept in the use of both. The 
whip was a barbarous affair, with a long, stinging lash, 
that, when there came a hard pull, would fairly singe the 
quivering flanks of the mules, or crack like a pistol-shot 



226 



AN IMPORTANT FACTOR IN THE WAR. 



as the driver snapped it above their heads. A man was 
not thought fit to drive a team unless he could, four times 
«ut of five, pick a fly from the ear of a swing mule with 
the tip of his lash. 

But the tongue of the muleteer was, after all, his chief 
reliance as a stimulating force. The whip and rein had 
their uses, but when pulling up steep and stony hills, 
through miry sloughs and over "corduroy" roads, the 
driver brought into play all 
his reserve power of lungs, 
and the effect was magical. 
Without those unearthly 
yells and howls, those aw- 
ful oaths and imprecations, 
the supply -trains never 
could have reached the 







front ; the army 
'{( would have starv- 
ed to death and 
the war have been 

AN ARMY TEAM. ^ failurC. 

The idea of riding for a few days and letting his blisters 
get well was too much for Si Klegg. Besides, he thought 
if there was anyone thing he could do better than another 
it was driving team. He had been doing it on his father's 
farm all his life. He did not think there would be a fight 
that day, and so was willing to serve as a substitute for 
the charioteer. 



SI VOLUNTEERS AS TEAMSTER. 22T 

"I'm yer man ! " he said. 

"All right !" said the orderly. " Company, Right — Face I 
Break ranks — March ! " 

"There ain't no trouble about it! " Si said to Shorty as 
they walked back to the tent. "I reckon it's easy 'nough 
ter manage mules ef ye go at 'em right. It'll be jest fun 
for me to drive team. And say, Shorty, I'll carry all yer 
traps on my waggin. That'll be a heap better 'n totin' 
'em!" 

"Thank'ee, pard," said Shorty, "I'll b'ar it 'n mind ef I 
gits played out. I reck'n ye '11 git 'long 'thout no trouble. 
It'll give ye a chance ter find out the diff'runce 'tween 
mules 'n' hosses." 

Si gathered up his outfit and started to enter upon his 
new sphere of usefulness. 

"Shall I take my gun 'n' bay'net 'long?" he asked the 
orderly. 

"Guess you'd better; they might come handy!" replied 
the orderl}', as he thought of the regular teamster's disas- 
trous encounter with the "off-wheeler." 

After Shorty had eaten his breakfast he thought he would 
go back of the camp and see how Si was getting on. With 
thoughtful care Si had fed his mules before appeasing his 
own appetite, and Short}^ found him just waiting for his 
coffee to cool a bit. 

"Why, them 'ere mules is jest 's gentle 'n' peace'ble-like 
's so many Icittens. Look at 'em, Shorty! " and Si pointed 
with a proud and gratified air to where the six "daisies " 
were standing, three on each side of the "vv^agon-pole, with 
their noses in the feed-box, quietly munching their matu- 
tinal rations, and whisking their paint-brush tails about 
in evident enjoyment. 

Indeed, to look at those mules, one who was ignorant 
of the peculiar characteristics of the species would not have 
thought that beneath those meek exteriors there were 
hearts filled with the raging fires of total depravity. 



228 GOING TO HAVE A NICE TIME. 

Shorty thought how it would be, but he didn't say any- 
thing. He was sure that Si would find out all about it. 

The brigade to which the 200th Indiana belonged was 
to march in the rear of the procession that day. This was 
lucky for Si, as it gave him an hour or two more than he 
would otherwise have had to get hitched up. But he 
thought he would begin early, so as to be on hand with 
his team in good time. 

"Want any help? " asked Shorty. 

"No," said Si; "I kin hitch 'em up slick 's a whistle. I 
can't see why they makes sich a fuss 'bout handlin' mules!'' 

Shorty lighted his cob pipe and sat down on a stump to 
watch Si. " Kind o' think there'll be a circus ! " he said to 
himself. 

Si got up from his coffee and hardtack, and addressed 
himself to the business of the hour. It proved to be just as 
much as he could attend to. When he poured half a bushel 
of corn into the feed-box it was all ver^^ nice, and the ani- 
mals rubbed their heads against him to give expression to 
their grateful emotions. But when it came to putting on 
the harness, that was quite a different thing. The mere 
touch of a strap was enough to arouse into activity all the 
evil passions of mule nature. 

"Now, Pete 'n' Jeff 'n' Susan, we must git ready to pull 
out!" said Si to his charge, in a familiar, soothing tone, 
preliminary to getting down to business. It was his evi- 
dent desire to maintain the friendly relations that he 
thought he had already established. At the first rattle of 
the harness Pete and Jeff and the rest, as if with but a 
single thought, laid back their ears and began to bra}', their 
heels at the same time showing sj^mptons of impatience. 

"Whoa, there— whoa!" exclaimed Si, in a conciliatory 
way, as he advanced with a bridle in his hand toward one 
of the big wheelers, whose ears were flapping about like 
the fans of a windmill. 

Si imprudently crept up from the rear. A flank move- 



SOFT WORDS THAT WERE WASTED, 



229 



ment would have been better. As soon as he got fairly 
within range the mule winked vicioush', lowered his head, 
and let fly both heels. Si was a spry boy, and a quick 
dodge saved him from the fate of his predecessor. One of 
the heels whizzed past his ear with the speed of a cannon 
ball, caught his hat, and sent it spinning through the air. 

Shorty, who was whittling up a piece of Kentucky twist 
to recharge his pipe, laughed till he rolled off the stump all 
in a heap. A few of the other boys had stra\'ed out to see 
the fun, and were lounging around the outskirts of the 
corral. 

"Go for 'em. Si!" 
they shouted. 

Si was plucky, and 
again advanced, with 
more caution. This 
time he was success- 
ful, after a spirited en- 
gagement, in getting 
the bridle on. He 
thought he would ride 
the animal down to 
the creek for water, 
and this would give him a chance to get acquainted with 
him, as it were. He patted his neck, called him pet names, 
and gently stroked his stubbly mane. Si didn't know 
then what an utter waste of material it was to give taffy 
to an army mule. 

With a quick spring he vaulted upon the taule's back. He 
started off in good style, waving his hand exultingly to 
the boys, with the air of a general who hac just won a 
great battle. 

All at once the animal stopped as suddenly as if he had 
run against a stone wall. He planted his fore feet, throw- 
ing his ears back and his head down. There was a simulta- 
neous rear elevation, with the heels at an upward angle of 




A CLOSE SHAVE. 



230 



MORE VIGOROUS MEASURES. 



about forty-five degrees. Si went sprawling among the 
bushes. This performance was greeted with great enthu- 
siasm by the fast-increasing crowd of spectators. 

Si's temper began to show signs of fermentation. He 

had hung on to the bridle-rein, and after addressing a few 

impressive words to the obstreperous mule, he again leaped 

upon his back. The mule then took a docile turn, his mo- 

„ "■ tive having apparently 

^=.ss? been merely to show Si 
what he could do when 
he took the notion. 

It would be tedious 
to follow Si through all 
the details of ' ' hitching 
up " that team. He did 
finally succeed after 
much strategic effort. 
The mules brayed and 
kicked a good deal, and 
Si's wrath was fully 
aroused before he got 
through. He became 
' convinced that s o f t 
words were of no ac- 
count in suchacontest, 
and he enforced disci- 
pline by the judicious 
use of a big club, to- 
gether with such appropriate language as he could think 
of. He hadn't learned to swear with that wonderful and 
appalling proficiency that was so soon acquired bj the 
army teamster. 

At last Si climbed into the saddle, as proud as a king. 
SeizingthelongHne he shouted, "Gitupthar, Pete! G'lang 
Susan ! " and the caravan started. 
But those unresenerate brutes didn't go far. Si was 




'a man overboard. 



TIMELY ASSISTANCE. 231 

gayly cracking his whip, trying to hit a big blue-bottle fly 
that was jDcrched on the ear of one of the "swing" mules. 

As if by a preconcerted plan; the establishment came to 
a sudden halt and the mules began to rear and kick and 
plunge around in a state of riotous insurrection. It didn't 
take more than a minute for them to get mixed in a hope- 
less tangle. They were in all conceivable shapes — heads 
and tails together, crosswise and "every which way, "tied 
up with thestraps of the harness. The air in all directions 
was full of heels. There was a wild chorus of discordant 
braying. 

In the course of the scrimmage Si found himself on the 
ground. Gathering himself up, he gazed in utter amaze 
ment at the twisted, w^rithing mass. At this moment a 
message came from the colonel to "hurry up that tean>/' 
and poor Si didn't know what to do. He wnshed he couM 
only talk like the old mule drivers. He thought it would 
make him feel better. Then> v^as no one to help him out 
of his dilemma, as the members of the company were all 
getting ready for the mai ch. 

A veteran teamster happened along that way, took in 
the situation at a glance, and volunteered his assistance. 

"Here, young feller," said he, "Lemme show ye ho'w to 
take the stiffenin' out o' them ere dod-gasted mules ! " 

Seizing the whip at the small end of the stock he began 
laying on right and left with the butt, taking care to keep 
out of range of the heels. During these exercises he was 
shouting at the top of his voice words that hissed through 
the air. Si thought he could smell the brimstone and see 
the smoke issuing from the old teamster's mouth and nos- 
trils. This is a section of what that experienced mule- 
driver said, as nearly as types can express it : 

*' I I !!!***ttt!!! ! ? ? ? 

- ''t$! !! !" 

Si thanked the veteran for these timely suggestions in the 



232 



THE CARAVAN UNDER WAY. 



way of language, and said lie would remember them. H(k 
had no doubt they would help him out next time. 

They finally got the team untied, and Si drove over to 
headquarters. The regiment had been gone some time, a 
detail having been left to load the wagon. After getting 
out upon the road the mules plodded along without ob- 
jection, and Si got on famously. But having lost his place 
in the column in consequence of the dela}^ he was obliged 
to fall in rear of the division train, and it was noon before 
he got well started. 




TOTAL DEPRAVITY. 



Along toward evening Si strucka section of oldcorduroy 
road through a piece of swamp. The passage of the ar- 
tillery and wagons had left it in a wretched condition. 
The logs were lying at all points of the compass, or drift- 
ing about in the mire, while here and there were seas of 
water and pits of abysmal depth. 

To make the story short. Si's mules stumbled and 
floundered and kicked, while he laid on with the whip and 
used some of the words he had learned from the old team- 
ster before starting. 



MORE TROUBLE, AND SI RESIGNS. 



238 



At length the wagon became hopelessly stalled. The 
wheels sank to the hubs, and Si yelled and cracked his whip 
in vain. Perhaps if he had had the old teamster there to 
talk for him he could have pulled through, but as it was 
he gave it up, dismounted, hunted a dry spot, and sat 
down to think. 

Just before dark a large detail from the regiment which 
had been sent back on an exploring expedition for the col- 
onel's team, reached the spot. After hours of prying 
and pushing and 
tugging and j'^elling 
they at length got ''' 
the wagon over the 
slough, reaching 
camp about mid- 
night. 

The colonel was 
a good deal excited 
because his wagon 
was so late in get- 
ting up. It contain- 
ed his mess -chest 
and he had been 
compelled to wait 
for his supper, fain 
to stay his hunger by begging a hardtack or two from 
the boys. He made it very uncomfortable for the amateur 
teamster. 

Early next morning Si went back to the company. " Or- 
derly," said he, "Ib'lieve I'd like ter resign my place as 
mule-driver. It's a nice, soft thing, but I'd jest 's lief let 
s'm other feller have it, an' I'll take my gun an' go ter 
Koofin' it agin!" 




IN THE SLOUGH. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

Si Smells Powder, Behaves Handsomely, and is Made a Corporal 

^ C ^^ EEMS to me it's 'bout time ter be gittin' into a 
K^ fight !" said Si Klegg to Shorty one night as they 
sat around the fire after supper, with their shoes and stock- 
ings off, comparing the size and number of their respective 
bhsters. Neither of them had left on their feet much of the 
skin with which they started out. "I always s'posed,*' 
he continued, "that bein' a soljer meant fightin' somebody; 
and here we are roamin' over the country like a lot o' 
tramps. I cant see no good in it, nohow !' 

"Don't be in a hurr}^ Si," replied Shorty; "I reckn 
we'll ketch it soon 'nough. F'm what I've heern the old 
soldiers tell, a battle ain't such a funny thing as a feller 
thinks what don't know nothin' 'bout it. The boys is al- 
waj^s hungry at fust forshootin' and bein' shot at, but I've 
an idee that it sort o' takes away their appetite when they 
gits one squar' meal of it. They don't hanker arter it no 
more. It's likely we'll git filled full one o' these days ! I'm 
willin' ter wait!" 

"Wall,'' said Si, "I sh'd think we might have a little 
squirmish, anyhow. Id like ter have a chance ter try my 
gun, 'n' hear what kind of a noise bullets makes. Of 
course I'd ruther they'd hit some other feller 'sides me, but 
I'm ready ter take the chances. I don't b'lieve I'd be 
afeard!" 

Si was ambitious, and full of the martial ardor that 
blazed in the breast of every young volunteer. He was 



COMPANY Q TO THE FRONT. 235 

really g^ad when the orderly came around presently and 
told them that the 200th Indiana would have the advance 
next day, and Company Q would be on the skirmish line. 
He told the boys to see that their cartridge-boxes w^ere all 
full and their guns in good order, as they would be very 
likely to run foul of the rebels. 

Before Si went to bed he cleaned up his gun and made 
sure that it would "go off" when he wanted it to. Then 
he and Shorty crawled under the blankets, and as they lay 
"spoon fashion," thinking about what might happen the 
next day. Si said he hoped they would both have "lots 
of sand." 

All night Si was dreaming about awful scenes of slaugh- 
ter. Before morning he had destroyed a large part of the 
Confederate arm}-. 

It was yet dark when the reveille sounded through the 
camp, Si and Shorty kicked off the blankets at first 
blast of bugle, and were quickly in their places for roll- 
call. Then, almost in a moment, fires were gleaming, and 
the soldiers gathered around them to prepare their hasty 
breakfast. 

Before the sun was up the bugles rang out again upon 
the morning air. In quick succession came the "general," 
the "assembly," and "to the color." The 200th marched 
out upon the pike, but soon filed off into a cornfield to take 
its assign'^a place in the line, for the advance division 
was to mo\e in order of battle, brigade front, that day 

Moving in line of battle was a very different thing from 
marching in column on a well-defined road. The former 
mode of advancing was customary when in the immediate 
presence of the enemy, to be in readiness for action at any mo- 
ment. Incase of sudden attack, a body of men marching 
by the flank would almost inevitably be thrown into con- 
fusion before it could be formed in order of battle. Some- 
times the leading corps of an army, disposed m two or 
three parallel lines, w- ith a front of a mile or more, marched 



236 BEHIND A CONVENIENT STUMP. 

all day with this formation, directly "across country,'* 
through field and wood and bramble patch, leveling every 
fence in its course, fording streams and swamps, stopping 
for nothing, except, perhaps, a fortified position of the 
enemy. A march of this kind was extremely fatiguing, and 
night found the men with clothing torn and hands and 
faces bleeding from the effects of bush and brier. During 
the early hours of the day, when moving through thick 
underbrush or fields of standing grain wet with the heavy 
dews of night, the garments of the soldiers became as com- 
pletely saturated as if they were marching in a rain-storm. 

In obedience to orders Company Q moved briskly out 
and deployed as skirmishers, covering the regimental front. 
The movement was not a scientific "deployment," for 
that point in the tactics had not yet been reached ; but a 
few directions enabled the men to spread themselves out 
in good shape. As the line advanced through field and 
thicket Si Klegg's heart was not the only one that 
thumjjed against the blouse that covered it. 

It was not long till a squad of cavalrymen came gallop- 
ing back, yelling that the rebels were just ahead. The 
line was halted for a few minutes, while the generals swept 
the surrounding country with their field-glasses, and took 
in the situation. 

The skirmishers, for fear of accidents, took advantage 
of such cover as presented itself. Si and Shorty found 
themselves to leeward of a large stump. 

"D'3^e reckon a bullet 'd go through this 'ere stump?" 
aaid Si. 

Before Shorty could answer, something happened that 
absorbed their entire attention. 

Boom-m-m-m ? 

"D-d-d've hear that?" said Si through his chattering 
teeth. 

"Yes. and there's suthin comin' over this wa,y," replied 
Shorty. 



SI AND SHORTS' GET PANICKY. 



237 



A shell came screaming and swishing through the air. 
The young Hoosiers curled around the roots of that stump 
and flattened themselves out like a pair of griddle-cakes. 
If it was Si and Shorty that the rebel gunners were after 
they timed the shell to a second, for it burst with a lond 
bang just over them. The fragments flew all around, 
some striking the stump and others tearing up the dirt on 
every side. 

To say that for the moment those two soldiers were 
demoralized would be drawing it very mildly. They 
showed unmistakable s^^mptoms of a panic. It seemed as 
though they would 




< 



Yr 



m:,f^% 



be hopelessly stam- 
peded. Their tongues 
were paralyzed, and 
they could only look 
silently into each 
other's white faces. 

Si was the first to 
recover himself, al- 
though it could hard- 
ly be expected that he 
could get over his 
scare all at once. 

"D-d-did it hit ye, 
Sh-Shorty?"he said. 

" N-no, I guess not ; b-b-but ain't it aw-awful. Si ? You 
looked so b-b-bad I th-thought ye was k-k-killed !" 

"Who's afeard?"said Si. "I was only sheered of you, 
Shorty. Brace up, pard ! It's all right so 's we ain't hurt. 
But say. Short}', does all the bullets do that waj^?" 

"That was a shell a-bustin', Si, 'n' that big noise jest 
'fore it was a cannon. I'veheerd 't shells was powerful fer 
skeerin', 'n' I 'low ther' ain't no mistake 'bout it." 

"I've read 'bout shells 'n' things," said Si, "but I never 
heerd one afore. Ef they're all like that un I don't guess 



NEARLY A PANIC. 



>/ 



238 



SI GETS A SHOT, 



I'm goin' ter like 'em very much. We hain't got no use ftr 
'em, 'n'l wish thej^'d keep 'em to theirselves. Tain't a fa'r 
way ter fight, nuther; a feller hain't got no show 'th a 
muskit agin a cannon 't heaves them things a mile." 

Several more shells were sent over, but they exploded to 
the right and left and in the rear. 

"Givin' the rest o' the boys a chance ter smell 'em," said 
Shorty. 

" 'Pears to me they'd orter be divided 'round. I ain't no 
pig, 'n' I'm willin' ter wait t'll it's my turn." 

After a brief consultation the generals determined to push 
on. "Skirmishers — Forward ! " was heard along the line. 

" Come on, Shorty," 
said Si, and they plung- 
ed bravely ahead. 

Emerging suddenly 

^'^^ from a thick wood, they 

y^ came upon the rebel skir- 

■^ mishers in full 



view, 
I posted on the opposite 
side of a field. 
-/^. Crack! Crack!— Zip! 
Zip! 

"Guess there's a bee- 
tree somewhere around 
here, from the way the bees is buzzin'," said Si. 

"'Tain't no bees," replied Shorty, "them's bullets, Si. 
Nice music, ain"t it ? Don't ye see the durned galoots over 
yonder a-shootin' at us ? " 

Si was not a coward, and he was determined to show 
that he was not. The shell, a little while before, had taken 
the starch out of him for a few minutes, but that was 
nothing to his discredit. Many a seasoned veteran found 
himself exceedingly limber imder such circumstances. 

"Let's give the raskils a dose, " said he ; "the best we've 
got 'n the shop! " 




si's first shot. 



AND TAKES A PRISONER. 239 

Suiting the action to the word Si crept up to a fence, 
thrust his gun between the rails, took good aim and fired. 
A bullet from the other side of the field made the splinters 
fly from a rail a foot or two from his head, but he was 
getting excited now, and he didn't mind it any more than 
if it had been a paper wad from a pea-shooter. 

It makes a great difiPerence with a soldier under fire 
\vhetherhecan take ahand in the game himself, or whether 
he must lie idle and let the enemy "play it alone." 

"Did ye hear him squeal? " said Si, as he dropped upon 
the ground and began to reload with all his might. "I 
hit that feller, sure pop ! Give 'em pertickler fits. Shorty. 
We'll show 'em 't the 200th Injianny 's in front to-day! " 

"Forward, men!" shouted the officers. "Go right for 
'em!' 

The skirmishers sprang over the fence and swept across 
the field at a "double-quick" in the face of a sputtering 
fire that did little damage. None of them readied the other 
side any sooner than Si did. The rebels seemed to have 
found out that the 200th was coming, for thev were 
already on the run, and some of them had started early. 
Pell-mell through the brush they went, and the blue- 
blouses after them. 

"Halt, there, or I'll blow a hole clean through ye!" 
yelled Si, as he closed up on a ragged specimen of the 
Southern Confederacy whose -wind had given out. Si 
thought it would be a tall feather in his hat if he could 
take a prisoner and march him back. 

The "Johnn^^" gave one glance at his pursuer, hesitated, 
and was lost. He surrendered at discretion. 

"Come 'long with me; ye're my meat!" said Si, his 
ej-es glistening with pleasure and pride. He conducted 
his prisoner back and delivered him to the colonel. 

"Well done, my brave fellow ! " said the colonel. "This 
is a glorious da}^ for the 200th Indiana, and you've taken 
its first prisoner. What's 3'our name, m v boy ? " 



240 



KIND WORDS FROM THE COLONEL. 



"Joslah Klegg, sir! " said Si, blushing to the very roots 
of his hair. 
"What company do you belong to ? " 
"Company Q, sir!" and Si saluted the officer as nicely 
as he knew how. 

"I'll see your captain to-night, Mr. Klegg, and you shall 
be rewarded for your good conduct. You are the kind of 
stuff we want for non-commissioned offi- 
cers, and we must have you promoted. 
You may now return to your company." 
It was the proudest moment of Si's life 
up to date. He stammered out his thanks 
to the colonel, and then, 
throwing his gun up to 
a right-shoulder-shift, 
he started off on a can- 
ter to rejoin the skir- 
mishers. 

The fight was over. 
It was only the rebel 
rear -guard making a 
stand to check the ad- 
vance of the Union 
troops, led by the im- 
petuous 200th Indiana. 
The main body of the 
Confederate army was 
getting out of the way 
A GOOD BEGINNING. ^s fast as possiblc. 

That night Si Klegg was the subject of a short conver- 
sation between his captain and the colonel. They agreed 
that Si had behaved very handsomely, and deserved to be 
promoted. 

"Are there any vacancies in your non-commissioned offi- 
cers ? *" asked the colonel. 

"No," was the reply "but there ought to be. One of 




SI APPOINTED A CORPORAL. 241 

my corporals skulked back to the rear tliis morning and 
crawled into a wagon. I think we had better reduce him 
to the ranks and appoint Mr, Klegg."" 

"Do so at once, " said the colonel. 

Next morning, when the 200th was drawn up in line, an 
order was read by the adjutant reducing the skulker and 
promoting Si to the full rank of corporal, with a few 
words commending the gallantry of the latter. These 
orders announcing rewards and punishments were sup- 
posed to have a salutary effect by inspiring the men to 
deeds of glory, and as a warning to those who were a little 
short of "sand." 

Si bore his unexpected honors with becoming modesty. 
The boys of Company Q cheered him on the march that 
day, shouting and yelling for "Corporal Klegg'' with 
great effusiveness. In the evening, after supper, in spite 
of his protests, they placed him on a cracker-box mounted 
on two rails, and four sturdy n;en carried him around in 
triumphal state on their shoulders, led by fife and drum 
and followed by the members of the company in grotesque 
procession. It may have been accidental, — possibly it was 
part of the plan for the celebration — but one of the rails 
slipped and the new corporal tumbled to the ground in a 
promiscuous heap, amidst the shouts of his comrades. He 
was informed that he would be required to "set 'em up" 
at the first opportunity. 

Promotions in the army were celebrated by demonstra- 
tions of this kind, with every conceivable variation of 
stj'le, and few who had stripes put on their arms were per- 
mitted to escape. The solemn awe with which the soldiers 
at first regarded their commissioned officers gradually 
melted away, and they, too, had to come in for their share 
of attention when they stepped up a round in the ladder. 
When a soldier was commissioned from the ranks he was 
an especial object of boisterous congratulation; nor was 



242 



ANOTHER LETTER TO ANNIE. 



he permitted to wear his shoulder-straps in peace until 

they had been properly "moistened." 
Si hunted up some strips of cloth and needle and thread, 

went off back of the tent, rammed his bayonet into the 

ground, stuck a candle in the socket, and, with Shorty's 

assistance, sewed chevrons on his sleeves. 

" Thar,'' said Shorty, as his 
comrade put on his decorated 
blouse, "them stripes 's mighty 
becomin' to ye, 'n' ye arned 
em, too, faV 'n' squar', I ain't 
'shamed ter have ye fer m}- 
pard." 

Then Si thought of somebody 
whose heart he hoped would 
flutter with pleasure" to know 
of his promotion, and before 
going to bed he wrote a short 
letter : 

Deer Annie : I once more take my 
pen in hand to tell 3^ou theres grate 
news. I'm an ossifer. We had an awful 
fite yisterdy. I don't know how menny 
rebbles I kild, but I guess thare was 
enuff to start a good sized graveyard. I 
tuk a prizner, too, and the Kurnal says 
to nie bully fer 3'ou Mister Klegg, or 
sumthin to that eflfeck. This momin they 
made me a Corporil, and red it out before the hull rijinient. I guess 
youd been prowd if you cood a seen me. To-night the bo3-s is hollerin 
hurra vv fer Corporil Klegg all over camp. 1 aint as big as the Ginrals 
and sum of the other ossifers, but thars no tellin how hi I'll get in three 
years. 

Rownd is the ring that haint no end, 
So is my luv to you my frend. 

Yours, same as before, 

Corporil Si Klegg. 




CORPORAL SI KLEGG. 



CHAPTER XIX* 

"Should Old Acquaintance be Forgot and Never Brought to 
Mind?"— The Little Bug with the Big Name. 

ONE day just before Si left home with Company Q he 
■ was sitting on the sugar barrel in the corner gro- 
cer3% gnawing a "blind robin," and telling how he thought 
the war wouldn't last long after the 200th Indiana got 
down there and took a hand in the game. One of the 
town boys, who had been a. year in the service, had got a 
bullet through his arm in a skirmish, and was at home 
on furlough, entered the store and accosted him : 

"Hello, Si; goin' for a soljer, ain't ye?" 

"You bet!" 

"Wall, you'd better b'lieve it's great fun; it's jest a pic- 
nic all the time! But say> Si, let's see yer finger-nails!" 

"I'd like ter know what finger-nails 's got to do with 
soljerin'!" said Si. "The 'cruitin' ossifer 'n' the man 't 

* Before entering upon this chapter the writer is moved to a few words 
of explanation — he will not say apolog3^ Under ordinary circumstances 
the "grayback " would be a theme with few attractions for a refined and 
sensitive reader. Possibly these pages maybe scanned by some for whose 
information it is well to say that the " grayback " was a very large factor 
in the discomfort of the sol. Jer. In the usual conditions of life the abiding 
presence of this pestiferous insect might well be considered an evidence of 
uncleanly habits. In the army it was not so — that is to sa}-, there were 
times when ever3^bod3^, from generals down, "had 'em" more or less, 
and no power on earth could prevent it. To "skip " the subject in these 
pages would be deemed by the old soldier an unpardonable fault; and 
the writer believes that any jjerson who will put himself in the place 
of the soldier may read this chapter without offending his sense of liter- 
ary propriety. 

243 



244 SI IS PUZZLED. 

keeps the doctor shop made me shuck myself, 'n' then they 
'xamined my teeth, 'n' thumped me in the ribs, 'n' rubbed 
down my legs, 'n' looked at my hoofs, but they didn't say 
nothin' 'bout my finger-nails." 

"You jest do 's I tell ye; let 'em grow 'n' keep 'em right 
sharp. Ye'll find plenty o' use fer em arter a while, 'n' 
'twon't be long, nuther. I know what I'm talkin' 'bout." 

Si wondered a good deal what the veteran meant about 
the finger-nails. He did not even know that there existed 
in animated nature a certain active and industrious insect 
which, before he had been in the army a great while, would 
cause his heart to overflow with gratitude that nature had 
provided him w^ith nails on his fingers. 

If the 200th Indiana had been quartered for a while in 
long-used barracks, orhad pitched its tents in an old camp. 
Si would very soon have learned the delightful luxury of 
finger-nails. But the regiment had moved out quickly 
with the army and always camped on new ground. Under 
these circumstances the insect to which allusion has been 
made did not begin its work of devastation with that 
suddenness that usually marked its attack upon soldiers 
entering the field. 

One afternoon, when a few days out, a regiment of Wis- 
consin veterans bivouacked next to the 200th. Their 
strange antics, as they threw off their accouterments, at- 
tracted Si's attention. 

" Look a' thar," he said to Shorty. "What 'n the name 
of all the prophets 's them fellers up to ?" 

"Seems like they was scratchin' theirselves!" 

"I s'pose that's on account o' the dust 'n' sweat," said 
Si. 

"It's a mighty sight wuss 'n that !" replied Short}^ who 
knew more about these things than Si did. "I reckon we'll 
all be doin' like they are 'fore long." 

Si whistled softh" as he watched the Wisconsin boys. 
They were hitching and twisting their shoulders about, 



"SKIRMISHING." 245 

evidently enjoying the friction of the clothing upon their 
skins. There was a general employment of fingers, and 
often one would be seen getting some other fellow to 
scratch his back around where he couldn't reach himself. 
If everybody was too busy to do this for him, he would 
back up to a tree and rub up and down against the bark. 

Life has few pleasures that can equal the sensations of 
delightful enjoyment produced, in those days when gray- 
backs were plentj^ by rubbing against a tree that nicely 
fitted the hollow of the back, after throwing off one's 
"traps " at the end of a day's travel. 

Directly the Wisconsin chaps began to scatter into the 
woods. Si watched them as they got behind the trees and 
threw off their blouses and shirts. He thought at first 
that perhaps they ^vere going in swimming, but there was 
no stream of water at hand large enough to justify this 
theory in explanation of their partial nudity. As each 
man sa^ down, spread his shirt over his knees, and ap- 
peared to be intently engaged with eyes and fingers, Si's 
curiosity was very much excited. 

"Looks 's if they wuz all mendin' up their shirts an' 
sewin' on buttons," said Si. "Guess it's part o' their regu. 
lar drill, ain't it, Shorty? "' 

Shorty laughed at Si's ignorant simplicity. He knew 
what those veterans were doing, and he knew that Si 
would have to come to it, but he did not want to shock his 
tender sensibilities bv telling- him of it. 

"Them fellers ain't sewin' on no buttons, Si," he replied, 
"they're skirmishin'." 

"Skirmishin' ! '' exclaimed Si, opening his eyes verj^wide. 
"I hain't seen no signs o' rebils 'round here, 'n' there 
ain't any shootin' goin' on, 'nless I've lost my hearin'. 
It's the funniest skirmishin' I ever heern tell of! " 

"Now, don't ax me nuthin' more 'bout it. Si," said 
Shorty. "All I'm goin' to tell ye is that the longer ye live 



246 



IN QUEST OF INFORMATION, 



the more ye'll find things out. Let's flax 'round n git 
supjser ! " 

A little while after, as Si was squatting on the ground 
holding the frying-pan over the fire, he saw a strange in- 
sect vaguely wandering about on the sleeve of his blouse. 
It seemed to be looking for something, and Si became in- 
terested as he watched it traveling up and down his arm. 
He had never seen one like it before, and had a desire to 
know what it was. He would have asked Shorty, but his 
comrade had gone to the spring for water. Casting his 
eye around he saw the first lieutenant, who chanced to be 

sauntering through the 
camp. The lieutenant 
had been the principal 
of a seminars, and at 
home was looked upon 
by the simple villagers 
as a man who knew 
about all that was 
worth knowing. Si 
thought he might be 
able to tell him some- 
thing of the harmless- 
1'/ looking little stranger. 
So he put do\Yn his 
frying-pan and stepped 
up to the oflScer, holding out his arm and keeping his eye 
on the insect so that it should not get away. 

"Good evenin', Lieutenant ! " said Si, touching his hat. 
"Good evening, Corporal Klegg,"said the ofiicer, return- 
ing the salute. 

"Look a-here, pard," said Si, familiarly, forgetting in 
tlie interest he felt in the subject of inquiry the chasm of 
rank that j^awned between them, "^'ou've bin ter col- 
lidge, "'n' got filled up with book-rarnin' ; p'raps ye kin tell 
me what kind o' bug this is. I'm just a little bit curus ter 




A LESSON IN NATURAL HISTORY. 



WHICH IS DULY IMPARTED. 247 

know." And Si pointed to the insect, that was leisurely 
creeping toward a hole in the elbow of his outer garment, 

" Well, Josiah," said the lieutenant, after a brief inspec- 
tion, "I i^resume I don't know quite as much as some peo- 
ple think I do ; but I guess I can tell you something about 
that insect. I never had any of them myself, but I've read 
of them." 

"Never had 'em himself!" thought Si. "What 'n the 
world does he mean?" And Si's big eyes opened with 
wonder and fear at the thought that whatever it was he 
had "got 'em.'' 

"I suppose," continued the captain, "you would like to 
know the scientific name?'' 

"I reck'n that'll do 's well 's any." 

"Well, sir, that is a Pediculus. That's a Latin word, 
but it's his name." 

"Purty big name fer sich a leetle bug, ain't it, Perfes- 
sor?" observed Si. "Name's big enough for an el'fant er 
a 'potamus." 

"It maj^seem so. Corporal ; but when you get intimately 
acquainted with him I think you will find that his name 
Isn't any too large for him. There is a good deal more of 
him than j^ou think." 

The voung soldier's eyes opened still wider. 

"I was going on to tell you," continued the lieutenant, 
"that there are several kinds of pediculi — we don't say 
pediculuses. There is the pediculus capitis — Latin again, 
but it means the kind that lives on the head. I presume 
when \'ou were a little shaver your mother now and then 
harrowed your head with a fine-tooth comb ?" 

"Ya-as" said Si; "she almost took the hide off some- 
times, 'n' made me 3'ell like an Injun." 

"Now, Mr. Klegg-, I don't wish to cause vou unneces- 
sar}^ alarm, but I will say that the Jiead insect isn't a cir- 
cumstance to this one on your arm. As you would express 



248 CORPORALS IN JEOPARDY. 

it, perhaps, he can't hold a candle to him. This fellow is 
the pediculus corporis .'" 

"I s'pose that means they eats up corporals !" said Si, 
with a terrified glance at the two stripes on his arm. 

"I do not think the pediculus corporis confines himself 
exclusively to corporals, as his name might indicate," said 
the lieutenant, laughing at Si's literal translation and per- 
sonal application of the word. "He no doubt likes a 
juicy and succulent corporal, but I don't believe he is any 
respecter of persons. That's my opinion, from what I've 
heard about him. It is likely that I will be able to speak 
more definitely, from experience, after a while. Corporis 
means that he is the kind that pastures on the human 
body. But there's one thing more about this fellow. 
They sometimes call him pediculus vestimenti ; that is 
because he lives around in the clothing. 

" But we don't wear no vests," said Si, taking a practical 
view of this new word; "nothin' but blouses, 'n' pants, 
'n' shirts." 

"You are too literal, Mr. Klegg. That Avord means any 
kind of clothes. But I guess I've told you as much about 
him as you care to know at present. If you want any 
more information, after two or three weeks, come and see 
me again. I think by that time you will not find it neces- 
sary to ask any more questions." 

Si went back to his cooking, with the pediculus still on 
his arm. He wanted to show it to Shorty. The lieuten- 
ant's explanation, with its large words, was a little too 
much for him. He did not yet clearly comprehend the 
matter, and as he walked thoughtfully to where Shorty 
was boiling the coffee he was trying to get through his 
head what it all meant. 

"Hello, Si," said Shorty; "whar ye bin? What d'ye 
mean,goin' off 'n' leavin' yer meat half done? " 

"Sh-h!" replied Si. "Ye needn't git yer back up about 
it. Been talkin' to the leftenant. Shorty ; look at that 'ere 



SHORTY LETS IN THE LIGHT. 249 

btig!" And Si pointed to the subject of the officer's lec- 
ture on natural history that was still creeping on his arm. 
Shorty slapped his thigh and burst into a loud laugh. 

"Was that what ye went to see him 'bout? " he asked 
as soon as he could speak. 

"Why — ya-as," replied Si, surprised at Shorty's unseemly 
levit^^ "I saw that thing crawlin' 'round, 'n' I was 
a-wonderin' what it was, fer I never seen one afore. I 
knowed the leftenant was a scholard 'n' a perfesser, 'n' all 
that, 'n' I 'lowed he c'd tell me 'bout it. So I went 'n' 
axed him." 

"What 'd he tell ye?" 

"He told me lots o' big, heathenish words, 'n' said this 
bug was a ridiculus, er suthin' like that." 

" 'Diculus be blowed ! " said Shorty. " The ole man was 
a-stuffin' of ye. I'll tell ye what that is, Si," he added 
solemnh--, "that's a grayback! " 

"A grayback! " said Si. "I've hearn 'em call the John- 
nies, graybacks, but I didn't know 's there was an}' other 
kind." 

"I reck'n t won't be long, now, t'll yer catches on ter the 
meanin' of what a grayback is. Ye'll know all 'bout it 
purty sudden. This ain't the fust one I ever seen." 

Si was impressed, as he often had been before, by 
Shorty's superior wisdom and experience. 

"See here. Si," Shorty continued, as his eye suddenly 
lighted up with a brilliant thought, "I guess I kin make 
ye understand what a grayback is. What d'ye call that 
coat ye've got on? " 

"Why, that's a fool question; it's a blouse, o' course!" 

"Jesso ! " said Shorty. "Now, knock off the fust letter o' 
that word, 'n' see what ye got left ! " 

Si looked at Shorty as if he thought his conundrums 
were an indication of approaching idiocy. Then he said, 
half to himself: 

* ' Let's see ! Blouse— blouse— take off the fust letter, that's 



250 A CHEERFUL PICTURE. 

'b' — n' she spells 1-o-u-s-e, louse. Great Jemimy, Shorty, 
Is that a louse? '' 

"That's jest the size of it, Si. Ye'll have millions on 'em 
'fore the \var"'s over 'f they don't hurry up the cakes." 

Si looked as if he would like to dig a hole and get into it 
and have Short}^ cover him up. 

"Why didn't the leftenant tell me 'twas that? He said 
suthin' about ridiculus corporalis, and I thought he was 
makin' fun o' me. He said these bugs liked to eat nice, fat 
corporals." 

"I reck'n that's so," replied Shorty; "but the^^ likes 
other people jest as well — even a skinny feller like me. They 
lunches ofif'n privits, 'n' corp'rils, 'n' kurnals, 'n' gin'rals, 
all the same. They ain't satisfied with three square meals 
a day, nuther; they jest eats right along all the time 
'tween regular meals. They alius gits hungry in the night, 
too, and chaws a feller up while he's asleep. The}^ don't 
give je no show at all. I rayther think the graybacks likes 
the ossifers best if they could have their ch'ice, 'cause 
they's fatter 'n the privits; they gits better grub." 

Si fairly turned pale as he contemplated the picture so 
graphicall}' presented by Shorty. The latter's explanation 
was far more effectual in letting the light in upon Si's mind 
than the scientific disquisition of the "perfesser." He had 
now a pretty clear idea of what a "grayback" was. 
Whatever he lacked to make his knowledge complete was 
soon supplied in the regular v/ay. But Si was deeply 
grrieved and shocked at what Shortv had told him. 

"Shorty," he said, with a sadness in his tone that would 
almost have moved a mule to tears, "who'd a-thoughtl'd 
ever git as low down 's this, to have them peskj^ gray- 
backs, 's 3^e call 'em, crawlin' over me. How_ mother 'd 
feel if she knew about 'em. She wouldn't sleep a wink fer 
a month?" 

"Ye'll have ter come to it, Si. All the soljers does, from 
the major-gin'rals down tothetail-end o' the mule-whack« 



A LESSOX IX EXTERMIXATIOX. 



251 



ers. Ye mind them 'Sconsin cliaps we was lookin' at a 
little bit ago ?" 
"Yes," said Si. 

"Wall, graybacks was what ailed 'em. The fellers with 
their shirts on their knees was killin' on 'em off. That's 
what they calls 'skirmishin'.' There's other kinds o' skir- 
mishin' besides fightin' rebels! We'd better git rid o' that one 
on yer arm, ef he hain't got inside a-ready ; then ther' '11 be 
one less on 'em ; but ef ye don't watch out ther' '11 be athou- 
san' comin' ter the fun'ral ! " 

Si found him after a short search, and proposed to get a 
chip, carry him to the 
fire and throw him in. 

"NawP' said Shorty 
in disgust, "that's no 
way. Lemme show ye 
how!" 

Sh orty placed one 
thumb-nail on each side 
of the insect. There 
was a quick pressure, 
a snap like the crack of M 
a percussion cap, and ^^| 
all was over. 

Si shuddered, and 
wondered if he could practical instruction. 

ever engage in such a work of slaughter. 

"D'ye s'pose," he said to Shorty, "that there's anymore 
of 'em on me?" And he began to hitch his shoulders about, 
and to feel a desire to put his fingers to active use. 

"Shouldn't w-onder," replied Shorty. "Mebbe I've got 
'era, too. Let's go out 'n' do a little skirmishin' otirselves." 
"We'd better go off a good ways," said Si, "so the boys 
won't see us." 

"You're too nice and pertickler for a soljer. Si. Thej-'ll all 
bedoin' it, even the cap'n himself, by termorrerernex' daj " 




252 



A TOUCHING SCENE. 



They went out back of the camp, where Si insisted on 
getting behind the largest tree he could find. Then they 
sat down and engaged in that exciting chase of the pedic' 
ulus up and down the seams of their garments, so familiar 
to all who wore either the blue or the gray. Thousands 
of nice young men, who are now preachers and doctors 
and lawyers and statesmen, felt just as badly about it at 
first as Si did. But they all became very expert in the use 
of the thumb-nail. 
"Shorty," said Si, as thej- slowly walked back to eat 

their supper, whicli 
had been neglected 
in the excitement of 
the hour, " afore 
Company Q started 
ter jine the rijiment 
a feller 't was home 
*on furlough told me 
ter let my finger- 
nails grow long 'li' 
sharp. He said I'd 
need 'em. I didn't 
know what he 
meant then, but I 
reck'n I do now.'' 
Among the mem- 
ories of the war few are more vivid than those of 
the numerous little pests that, of one kind or another, 
day and night, year in and year out, foraged upon 
the body of the soldier. In every new locality there 
seemed to be a fresh assortment of ravenous insects, to 
cause bodily discomfort and drive away sleep. Bullets 
and screaming shell were not desirable companions, but 
as a rule they only came now and then; while the bugs 
and worms and insects, in every form that flies or creeps, 
were with the soldier alwavs. Manv of them, though an- 







' SKIRMISHING. 



AT THE HEAD OF THE CLASS. 



253 



noying, were harmless, while others seemed to have been 
created for the especial purpose of spoiling men's tempers 
and getting them into the habit of using bad language. 

Every man who marched and scratched will place the 
pediculus at the head of the list, and keep him there. He 
was every where— the soldier's close and intimate compan- 
ion, incam^^and hospital and prison, on the march and the 
battlefield. The faithful portrait here given represents a 
robust specimen of this sportive insect. It is of heroic 
size, having been enlarged twenty times by the aid of a 
microscope. No doubt the scientific name would be nij^s- 
tif\angtomost of the veterans of the war, but no practiced 
eye can fail to recognize in the work of the artist an 
old acquaintance that was ever present. It would appear 
not unlikeh^ that the nat- 
uralists christened the in- 
sect by this sounding name 
— pediculus ves timen ti — 
so that it could be used in 
any company of polite 
people with perfect safety, 
as not one person in a 
hundred would know 
what it meant. If doubt 
exists in the mind of any respecting the identity of 
the pediculus, it will h?. removed by the following, from 
the American Entomologist — a magazine in which the wise 
men tell all they know, or can guess at, about bugs and 
insects. It says : 

This is the species which, during the late war, infested so grievously 
both Union and rebel soldiers, from whom it received the characteristic 
name of "graj-back." 

This is the name that strikes the veteran. It has the old, 
familiar sound, and there can be no mistake about it. The 
teamed writer goes on to discuss the theme in this way: 




THE PEDICULUS. 



[This portrait is many times larger 
than he really was, but not half as 
big as he sometimes seemed to be.] 



254 A TROUBLESOME QUESTION. 

The reason that it was so prevalent in the late war wa» that the sol- 
diers, from the necessities of the service, were unable to wash their cloth- 
ing as often as they would have done at home, and nineteen times out of 
twenty had nothing but cold water to wash it in. Now, almost every 
species of insect will revive after an immersion of several hours in cold 
water, whereas water of such a temperature that you cannot bear 3-our 
finger in it for one second will immediateV destro3^ any insect, whatever, 
that is immersed in it. 

One of the great problems of the war \vas how to get 
rid of the pediculus. It was decidedly a practical question, 
and personally interested the soldiers far more than those 
of state sovereignt3% confiscation and the negro, which 
agitated the minds of the statesmen. Probauly the in- 
tellects of most of the soldiers were exercised far more in 
planning successful campaigns against the pediculus than 
in thinking about those which were directed against Lee 
and Jackson and Bragg and Joe Johnston. 

This arch enemy of the soldier preyed incessantly upon 
"Yankee " and rebel alike. But for this fact it might have 
been imagined that the pediculus was a diabolical inven- 
tion of the enemy, more to be dreaded than Gatling guns, 
Greek fire or breech-loading rifles. As it was, he feasted 
and fattened with equal enjoyment upon those who wore 
the blue and the gi"ay, officer and private. * 

Sometimes for weeks the soldiers tramped through heat 
and dust, night and day, with but very rare opportunities 
for washing either their clothes or their persons. Water, 
soap, and leisure time were equally scarce. It was then 

* During a long midsummer march, the writer saw a robust brigadier- 
general, who was afterward President of the United States, engaged in 
hunting the pediculus, with his nether garment spread out upon his 
knees in the popular style. It was j ust after the arm^^ had bivouacked for 
the night at the end of a hard da\^'s march. The soldiers had no tents, 
nor anything else to speak of— except graybacks. These were exceed- 
ingly numerous and active. The general had wandered out back of his 
headquarters, and, squatting behind a large tree, applied his energies to 
the work of "skirmishing," while the setting sun cast a mellow glow 
over the touching scene. Not far away, behind other big trees, were two 
of his staff officers similarly engaged — cracking jokes and graybacks. 



HOT WATER AND THUMB-NAIL. 



255 



that the pediculus had a prolonged season of sumptuous 
living. There was little chance for the effective boiling 
process. When a few afflicted men were so fortunate as 
to secure the use of a kettle, they wandered about in puris 
uaturalibus above the latitude of the waistband, while 
they crowded the fire and suffered the boiling water to do 
its purifying work. It was useless to try to drown the 
insects. In boiling lay the only hope of extermination, 
and even this gratifying effect was but temporary, for it 
did not take long to "catch 'em" again. Scalding water 
also brought to an un- 
timely end all the eggs 
or " nits, " thus pre- 
venting the birth of a 
new generation to join 
the marauding forces. 
Therein lay the advan- 
tagreof hot water over 
that universal weapon, 
the thumb-nail, which 
slew its millions. This 
was none the less effec- 
tive as far as it went,.^ 
but it was a good deal 
slower, requiring time 
and patience. The^ 
thumb-nail could not 
reach out into the future, as it were, like the foaming 
camp-kettle, and prematurely cut off myriads yet unborn. 

In the southern prisons, where thousands of Union sol- 
diers were huddled together, with no change of clothing 
and only the most limited cleansing facilities, the swarms 
of lice that preyed constantly upon the wretched, starving 
men, added immeasurably to their sufferings. 

T-^ ^^as a source of continual wonder to the soldiers 
vnere the countless multitudes of gra\'backs came from. 




ONE OF LIFE S PLEASURES. 



256 MEMORIES OF THE MOSQUITO. 

A German naturalist has brought his mathematics to bear 
upon the subject, and finds that two female pediculi will in 
eight weeks become the mothers and grandmothers of a 
posterity- numbering not less than ten thousand! Some 
people might not bt lieve this, but no old soldier will have 
the slightest doubt of the entire correctness of the statement. 
Indeed, if the professor had said ten million he could have 
found a cloud of witnesses readj to sustain him with 
affidavits. 

The second place on the list of pests may be awarded to 
the mosquito — more familiarly known as the "skeeter.'' 
This insect was often quite as numerous as the pediculus. 
In low, damp regions, during warm weather, swarms o{ 
these bloodthirsty insects drove the soldiers to the borders 
of distraction. They came in literal clouds, filling the air> 
the hum of a million wings swelling in maddening chorus. 
The naturalists say a mosquito's wings vibrate three 
thousand times a minute. The soldier w^ho has heard 
them buzzing in his ears wiU'certif)^ that this is not an 
overestimate. How man^^ times he found sleep possible 
only by curling up tinder his blanket and covering every 
inch of feet, hands and head, at the imminent risk of being 
smothered ! Sometimes the mosquitoes would not be baffled 
even in this way, and they would prod their bills through 
the blanket and pierce their victim. Then he would rush 
wildlv out and heap on the fire something that \vould 
make a great smudge. Sitting down in the thickest of the 
smoke, he would weep and cough and sneeze and strangle 
and swear — even this deplorable condition being preferable 
to the torments of the "skeeters." This picture is not 
overdrawn. Such scenes were common in many localities, 
from the Chickahomin}^ to the Rio Grande. 

The mosquito reached his highest state of physical and 
carniverous development on the arid plains of Texas. 
Those who spent the summer and fall months in that for- 
saken region are fully prepared to defend the affirmative 



TOUGH, I3UT TRUE. 257 

of this proposition. During September and October, in 
the evening, the visitations \vere simplv appalling. A few 
of the soldiers had foreseen the impending evil and pro- 
vided themselves with netting, but to the great mass of 
them the remembrance of those nights is like a hideous 
dream. They frequently sat up a good part of the night, 
their "pup" tents tightly buttoned, and a smudge of 
weeds and grass within. In addition to this every man 
had his pipe filled with "navy plug'' or "niggerhead, " and 
the viler the tobacco the more effective was the smoke 
upon the mosquitoes. 

The writer one afternoon rode a horse over the prairie, 
a distance of about ten miles. Before starting he took the 
precaution to cover his hands with gauntlets, tying them 
closely around the wrists, and to wind cloths around his 
head until he looked like a mummy. By the time his des- 
tination was reached he and portions of his horse were 
completely covered Avith masses of mosquitoes, clinging to 
one another and hanging' in festoons from every point. 
He avers, with full knowledge of the fate of Ananias for 
telling a lie, that he could have scraped off four quarts of 
them from his person and the beast he rode. 

The \voodtick was worthy of note for his patient in- 
dustrj^ and the quiet manner in which he fulfilled his mis- 
sion. He did not make any fuss, like the mosquito, to give 
warning of his designs and enable his victim to take pre- 
ventive measures. He had a most persistent way of 
getting in under one's clothes. When a southern tick made 
up his mind to have a taste of Yankee, access to the body 
was not difficult through the holes in the garments left by 
the tailor, or those resulting from the \vear and tear of 
the service. Then he would look around to find some ten- 
der spot, and settle down to his work. The victim was 
not often aware of his presence until he had burrowed 
nearly or quite under the skin. He could easily get there 
in the course of a night, for the tick neither slumbered nor 



258 



THE QUIET WOODTICK. 



slept. On getting uj) in the morning the soldier would 
feel, perhaps on the arm or the fleshy part of the leg, an 
itching sensation. Applyinghis hand tothespot,he would 
detect a small lump that he instinctively felt did not belong 
there. In fact, after a little experience he would know right 
away that he "had a woodtick." 

The insect's industrious habits made it desirable to muster 
him out of the Confederate service as soon as possible. 
There was no telling where he would not plow his way if left 
free to carry on his little campaign. So the sufferer would 




A FEW OLD ACQUAINTANCES. 

at once prepare for an inspection by taking off his shirt or 
trousers, according to the location of the lump. If it hap- 
pened to be aro.und where he could not reach it, he would 
get a comrade to diagnose the case and apply the remedy. 
If the tick had only his head under the skin, it was not a 
difficult matter. A grasp with thumb and finger and a 
quick jerk would separate the blood-distended body from 
the head, leaving the latter to be removed bv a little heroic 
treatment with a jack-knife. The woodtick never let go, 
and could not be drawn out any more easily than a fish 



' CONCERNING THE "jIGGER." 259 

hook after it has entered past the barb. He could only be 
disposed of by pulling him in two and getting rid of him 
in sections. Occasionally one burrowed so far that the 
knife of the surgeon was found necessary. The woodtick 
is not venomous. It is not likely that he ever killed any- 
body, but he was an unmitigated nuisance. 

That exasperating insect commonly known as the "jig- 
ger," could make as much trouble for his size as any of the 
pests that disturbed the peace of mind and bod}^ of the sol- 
dier. The only redeeming feature about the jigger was 
that he was confined to certain localities, and did not 
insist on sticking by and traveling right along with the 
soldiers, like the vengeful pediculus. Whenever they 
camped w^here he was, he would do all in his power to 
make it lively and interesting, but when they rolled up their 
blankets and moved away, he stayed behind. The jigger 
dwelt chiefly among the leaves on the ground and in the 
bark of old logs. •If the camp was kept thoroughly policed, 
there was comparatively little trouble from this source. 

The correct orthography of the name, according to the 
books, is "chigoe." The big dictionaries, however, allow 
"jigger," and this sounds more natural than the other. 
The jigger is a very small insect, often not more than half 
as large as the head of a pin. When the soldiers remem- 
ber how much he could do, small as he was, toward mak- 
ing life a burden, their hearts are filled with gratitude that 
the jigger wasn't any bigger. The fact is there were two 
or three wholly different insects, about equally pestifer- 
ous, which were grouped under the convenient name of 
"jiggers." One of them was of a bright red color, and so 
small that a person had to look twice to see him. But 
there was no trouble in feeling him after he had made his 
way under the skin, causing a keen smarting sensation 
that — when a man had half a dozen of them at once — 
"Would almost drive him frantic. The soldiers often got 



260 THE WICKED FLEA. 

up ill the night and lighted a candle or torch to hunt 
jiggers. 

This category would be incomplete without the nimble 
flea — the kangaroo of the insect world. The peculiarity 
of the flea is his jumping propensity, and the consequent 
difficulty of catching him. In this respect the flea is wiser 
and smarter than his fellows. Most of the bugs and in- 
sects that pester the human family become so absorbed in 
their biting and blood-sucking that they are wholly obliv- 
ious of personal safety. While they are gorging themselves 
they think of nothing else, till there comes a well-directed 
slap,' and they are no more. But it isn't so with the flea — 
"put your finger on him and he isn't there." He is a be- 
liever in the Hudibrastic theory, that 

He who bites and runs away 
May live to laite another day. 

He keeps the danger flag flying when upon his forays, and if 
his quick eye detects a hostile demonstration he gives one 
of those jumps that have made his name a proverb. 

There are said to be ten distinct varieties of fleas, infesting 
different animals. The one known as the "human flea," is 
very fastidious in his tastes. He does not like the flavor 
of dog or mule, and preys onh' upon the human race. It 
is not often that he gets so good a chance as the army 
afforded him. At some times and places the fleas were ex- 
ceedingly annoying, infesting clothing, blankets and old 
straw, biting and hopping around in a waythat was most 
trying to the temper. It was their agility in getting a\vay 
that made a soldier mad in spite of himself Even after 
the lapse of more than twenty j^ears, it is impossible 
for him to think of the army flea with anj^ degree of 
calmness. 

The ' ' black fly " is scarcely an eighth of an inch in length, 
but he is gifted with wonderful abilities in the way of an- 
noying man or beast. The soldiers rarely found them in 
the open country or on high ground, but in the swamps 



THE TARANTULA. 261 

and canebrakes they were terrible. Their peculiar method 
of torture was to get into the ears and nose — and the 
mouth, if it was not kept tightly closed — and bore and 
bite and buzz until the victim was well-nigh crazed. 
Horses and mules were sometimes so beset by countless 
thousands of these tiny insects, that they became almost 
unmanageable in their desperate efforts to escape from 
their tormentors. When circumstances compelled a body 
of troops to bivouac among the black flies, there was no 
sleep worth mentioning for anybody. 

The repulsive and deadly tarantula is too large to be 
called an insect and may be classed among reptiles. It is 
an exaggerated spider, frequentl}- reaching the size of a 
man's hand. Its bite is venomous and often fatal. Com- 
paratively few of the northern soldiers formed its ac- 
quaintance, as it is only found in the extreme southern 
portion of the United States, and rarely outside of Texas. 
It lives in the ground and comes out of its hole to wandei 
about in quest of prey. When the camps were thoroughly 
policed out to the guard-line, the tarantula did not often 
find his way across the beat. It was common to meet 
tarantulas when walking over the prairie, but they could 
always be killed without difficult}^ It is well known that 
copious draughts of whisky are considered an antidote 
for the bite of a venomous reptile. For a few days after 
reac|jing Texcis the soldiers \vorked the tarantula for all it 
w^as worth. One of them would prick his foot or hand 
with a knife, just enough to bring the blood, and then he 
would start on a wild run for the doctor's tent, shouting 
that he had been bitten by a "tarantler." The doctor 
would pour whisk}^ down his throat until he had filled 
him up, and the man would go away happ^^ This worked 
very nicely until the trick was discovered. 



CHAPTER XX. 

Si has Some Practical Lessons in the Duties of a Corporal. 

THE chevrons on Si Klegg's arms had raised him sev- 
. eral degrees in the estimation of not only himself, 
but the other members of the compan3\ His conduct in 
the skirmish had shown that he had in him the material 
for a good soldier, and even the orderly began to treat him 
with that respect due to his new rank as one of the "non- 
commish." 

Like every other man who put on the army blue and 
marched away, "with gay and gallant tread," Si could 
not tell whether he was going to amount to anything as a 
soldier until he had gone through the test of being under 
fire. There w^ere man\' men who walked very erectly, 
talked bravely, drilled well, and made a fine appearance 
on dress parade, before they reached "the front,'-' who 
wilted at the "zip "of bullets like tender corn blades nipped 
by an untimely frost. A good many continued in that 
wilted condition. Some of them wore straps on their 
shoulders. 

It must be confessed that Si was somewhat unduly elated 
over his achievements as a skirmisher and his success in 
starting up the steep hill of military rank and fame. It is 
true it wasn't much of a fight they had that day, but he 
thought it was pretty fair for a beginning, and enough to 
prove to both himself and his comrades that he wouldn't 
be one of the "coffee coolers " when there was business oa 
hand. 

263 



SI AS COKPC24AL OF THE GUARD. 26o 

"Corporal Klegg, you will go on duty to-night with the 
camp-guard!" said the orderly one evening as the 200th 
Indiana went into bivouac, a few days after Si had been 
promoted. 

Si responded with ready promptness. He had walked a 
beat once or twice as a common tramp, and had not found 
it particularly pleasant, especially in stormy weather; but 
now he was a peg higher, and he thought as corporal he 
would have a better time. He had already observed that 
the rude winds of army life were tempered, if not to the 
shorn lambs, at least to the officers, in a degree propor- 
tionate to their rank. The latter had the first pick of 
everything, and the men took what w^as left. The officers 
always got the softest rails to sleep on, the hardtack that 
was least infested b}' worms, the bacon that had the few- 
est maggots, and the biggest trees in a fight. 

"Forw^ard — March!" shouted the officer in command, 
w^hen the detachment was ready. Si stepped off very 
proudly, thinking how glad his good old mother and 
sister Maria and pretty Annabel would be if they could 
see him at that moment. He was determined to discharge 
his official duties with rigorous fidelit}^ and make the 
boys stand around and toe the mark in the most approved 
manner. 

When the guards reached the place selected for head- 
quarters, the officer briefly lectured them in regard to their 
duties, impressing upon them the necessity of being alert. 
There w^as onh^ a thin picket-line between them and the 
enemy. The safety of the arm}- depended upon the faith- 
fulness of those appointed to watch while others slept. 
He gave them the countersign, "Bunker Hill," and ordered 
them under no circumstances to allow an^' person to pass 
without giving it, not even the commanding general him- 
self. 

Then the "beats" were laid off and nuinbered, and the 
guards posted, and as the fast-gathering shadows deep- 



264 HE WAS INCORRUPTIBLE. 

ened among the trees the sentinels paced to and fro 
around the tired army. 

For an hour or two after the guards were stationed all 
was quiet along the line. The noise of the great camp 
was hushed for the night, and no sound broke the stillness 
of the gloomy forest. The moon arose and peeped timidly 
through the branches. 

" Corporal of the guard — Beat number six !" 

Si's quick ear, as he lay curled up at the foot of a tree, 
caught these words, rapidly repeated by one sentinel aftei 
another. It was his first summons. He sprang to his feet,, 
gun in hand, his heart beating at the thought of adven 
ture, and started on the run for "beat number six." 

"What's tip?" he said to the guard, \vith a perceptible 
tremor in his voice. 

"There's one o' the boys tryin' to run the guards! " was 
the answer. "He's been out foragin, I reckon. He's got 
a lot o' plunder he wants to git into camp with. See 
him, out there in the bush ?" 

The forager, for such he proved to be, was nimbly dodg- 
ing from tree to tree, watching for a chance to cross the 
line, but the alertness of the guards had thus far kept him 
outside. He had tried to bribe one or two of the boys by 
offering to " whack up " if they would let him pass, or give 
him the countersign so that he could get in at some other 
point in the cordon. But the guards were incorrupti- 
ble. They were "fresh" and had not j-et learned the 
scheme of accepting an offered chicken, a juicy section of 
pig, or a few sweet potatoes, and then walking off to the 
remote limit of the beat, with eyes to the front, while the 
forager shot across the line in safety. All this came to 
them in the fullness of time. 

The raider tried in vain to negotiate with Si. Ra,ising 
his gun to a "ready," the corporal ordered the man to 
come in or he would put a bullet through him The best 
thing to do under the circumstances w^as to obey. The 



A SC^UARE MEAL FOR THE COLONEL. 265 

^orager, who belonged to Si's company, crept up to Corpo- 
ral Klegg and in a conciliatory tone opened a parley. 

'You jest lenime in 'n' you may have yer pick o' this 
stuff," said he, holding up a fowl in one hand and a ham. 
in the other. "It'll be all right, and nobody '11 never know 
nothin' 'bout it!" 

Si hesitated; it w^as an assault upon his weak point. 
The offer was a tempting one, but he remembered his re- 
sponsibility to his country, and his stomach appealed in 
vain. Duty came before stewed chicken or roasted spare- 
rib. 

"Can'tdoit!"saidSi. "Ye've got hold o' thew^rongman 
this time. I ain't goin' to have nobody monkeyin' 'round 
while I'm corporal o' this 'ere guard. Come 'long 'th me, 
'n' step out lively, too!" 

Si marched the culprit back and delivered him up to the 
officer, who commended Si for his fidelity. The officer 
sent the prisoner to regimental headquarters, and the 
next day the ground back of the colonel's tent was strewn 
with feathers, chicken bones, ham rinds and potato skins, 
while the unlucky forager who had provided the field offi- 
cers' mess with such a royal meal had to carry a rail for 
• two hours. 

An hour later Si had another experience. The captain 
of Company Q felt a kindly interest, and not a little pride, 
in him, since the skirmish, and thought he would take a 
turn that night and see whether his newly-made corporal 
was "up to snuff.'' 

"Beat number three' was Si's second call. As he ap- 
proached the guard the latter said : 

"Corporal, here's the cap'n, and he wants to in! He 
' hain't got the countersign ; shall I pass him ? " 

"Good evening. Corporal!" said the captain, as Si came 
up, at the same time extending his hand. 

Si was thrown completely off his guard. Dropping the 
butt of his gun carelessly to the ground he replied cheerily, 



266 



THE CAPTAIN "PLAYED IT ON" HIM. 



"Good evenin', Cap'n," touching liis hat by way of salute. 
Then he took the proffered hand, pleased at the captain's 
mark of kindly recognition. He didn't understand the 
•dark plot against his official integrity. 
"How are you getting on, Mr. Klegg?" 
"Fust rate!" said Si, with the air of one conscious that 
he has done his duty well. "I captured a forager a little 
bit ago and took him to headquarters!' 

"Well done, Corporal. I have no doubt you will honor 
the good name of the 200th Indiana in general, and Com- 
pany in particular. 
I got caught outside 
to-night, and I want 
to get back into camp. 
Of course you know 
me and it's all right!" 
" Certainly, sir ! " 
said Si, as he stood 
leaning on his gun, 
and allowed the offi- 
cer to pass the magic 
line. " Oood night, 
Cap'n!" 

"Good night. Cor- 
poral !" 

' ' By the way, ' ' said 
the captain, retracing 
his steps, "I notice that you do not carry your gun just 
right. Let me show you how to handle it !" 

Si didn't know what a flagrant offense it was for a sol- 
dier on guard to let his gun go out of his hands ; nor had 
he the faintest suspicion that the captain was "playing 
it" on him. So he promptly handed his piece to the officer 
who immediately brought it down to a " charge, " with the 
bayonet at Si's breast. 




CORPORAL KLEGG GETS CAUGHT. 



A BAD BREAK. 267 

*' Suppose, now, I was a rebel in disguise," said the cap- 
tain, "what kind of a fix would you be in? " 

Light began to dawn upon Si, and he started back in 
terror at the thought of the mistake he had made. 

"Of course, I wouldn't let anybody else have it," he 
stammered ; "but I knowed you, Cap'n ! " 

"That makes no difference to a man on dut}^ CorjDoral. 
You hang on to your gun the rest of the night, and if any- 
body — I don't care who it is — insists on your giving it to 
him, let him have two or three inches of your bayonet. 
Don't let anybody pass without the countersign, either! 
Come to my quarters when you are relieved to-morrow." 
All this illustrates a way the officers had of testing new 
soldiers and teaching them a thing or two, when, as was 
frequently the case, they were not yet up to the mark. A 
trick of extra duty for the hapless novitiate was generally 
the penance for his simplicity. 

The cold chills ran up and dowm Si's back as he took his 
gun and slowly returned to the guard-fire. He felt that he 
had utterly spoiled his good record. 

"Lieutenant,' he said to the officer, "I wish ye'd please 
detail a man to kick me for about an hour! " 

The lieutenant wanted to know what the matter was, 
and Si told him all about it, ending with : 

" Sonow I s pose Cap '11 yank the stripes off'nmy blouse !" 

The officer quieted his fears by assuring him that there 

was no cause for alarm. The captain knev^' that he was 

trj'ing to do his duty, and what he had done was for Si's 

own good. 

Si sat down by the fire and was thinking it over when 
there was another call, "Corporal of the guard ! " He was 
soon at the point indicated, and found two officers on 
horseback, whom he recognized as the colonel and adju- 
tant of the 200th Indiana. Si's pard. Shorty-, was the 
guard who had halted them. 

"Now, Corporal Klegg," said Si to himself, laj-ing his 



268 



HOW THE COLONEL GOT THE COUNTERSIGN. 



finger alongside his nose, "you jest watch out this time. 

Here's big game ! Shouldn't wonder if them ossifers 'd 

been out skylarkin', 'n' the^^'re tryin' to git in. Don't ye 

let 'em fool ye 's the cap'n did ! " 
Si was right in his surmise. The colonel and adjutant 

had been enjo^nng a good supper at a house half a mile 

awa}^ and had not 
the faintest idea 
what the counter- 
sign was. 

Si was determined 
not to get caught 
this time. As he ap- 
proached, thecolonel 
saw that it was the 
soldier he had com- 
mended for his gal- 
lantry at the time of 
the skirmish. 

" Ah, Corporal 
Klegg, I'm glad to 
see you so prompt 
in your duty. I was 
sure we had made 
no mistake when we 
promoted you. Of 
course, you can see 
"not 'less ye say 'bunker hill!'" who I am. I'm your 

colonel, and this is the adjutant. We are, unfortunately, 
outside without the countersign; but you canjustletus 
through.'' 

The "taffy" had no effect upon Si. He brought himself 
into a' hostile attitude, with his bayonet in fair range 
of the officer, as he replied : 

"Colonel, my orders is ter pass no livin' man 'less he 
says 'Bunker Hill.' I'd be glad ter do ye a good turn, but 




SI MAKES ANOTHER MISTAKE. 269 

there's no usetalkin'. I'm goin'ter 'be}' orders, 'n' ye can't 
git in here." 

The colonel chuckled softly as he dismounted and came 
up to Si. 

"It's all right," he said. "Of course I know what the 
countersign is. I was only trying you." 

"Hold on, there," said Si, "don't come too close. If 
ye've got the countersign, advance 'n' give it. If ye hain't 
got it, I'll jest call the ossifer o' the guard ! " 

Leaning over the point of Si's bayonet the colonel gently 
whispered "Bunker Hill!" 

"Correct! " said Si, and bringing his gun to a "shoulder" 
he respectfully saluted the colonel. The latter started to 
remount, but turned back as he said : 

"Just let me show you how to hold your gun. You 
don't " 

"Not ef the court knows herself," said Si, again mena- 
cing the colonel with his bayonet. "That's been played on 
me once to-night, and if anybody does it agin my name 
aintSiKlegg!" 

"That's right, Corporal," said the colonel, as he sprang 
into the saddle: "butdon't tell anybody what the counter- 
sign is again ! Good night ! " 

"Good night. Colonel," said Si, touching his hat. 

As the officers rode awa\' Si began to think he had put 
his foot in it after all. He was confirmed in this opinion 
by seeing Shorty sit down on a log in a paroxysm of 
laughter. 

"Ye give j^erself away had that' time!" said Shorty, as 
soon as he could speak. "Y/hat did ye tell him the coun- 
tersign fer?" 

"Whew-w-w-w!" observed Si, with a prolonged whistle. 
'*Shorty," said he, "I wish ye'd take a club and see 'f ye 
can't pound a little sense into me ; I don't b'lieve I've got 
any!" Without another word he shouldered his gun and 
returned to the guard headquarters, in a very uncomfor- 



270 



NO DANGER THIS TIME. 



table frame of mind. "Now I'm a goner, sure!" lie said 
to himself. 

"Corporal of the guard!" was heard again, sometime 
after midnight. "If thej^ try any more measly tricks on 
mc to-night somebody '11 git hurt ! " thought Si as he 
walked briskly along the line in response to the call. 

This time it was a "contraband" — an old negro, who 
stood shivering with terror as the guard held him at the 
point of the bayonet. Recalling the unlucky adventures 

of the night, Si imagined 
that it was one of the 
officers, who had black- 
ened himself like a min- 
strel, and had come there 
purposely to " catch " 
him. 

"Ye can't git through 
'nless ye've got the 
countersign, "he said de- 
cisively; "and I shan't 
give it to ye, nuther! 
And ye needn't try ter 
show me how ter hold 
my gun I I kin handle 
it well enough ter shoot 
and punchthebay'net!" 

SI AND THE CONTRABAND. '< Dou' kuOW what 

dat all means, boss," said the frightened negro; "butfer 
de good Lawd's sake don't shove dat t'ing frew me. Ise 
only been ober to de nex' place to er possum roast and 
Ise jist gwine home. I didn't know dese yer ge-yards 
was heah!" 

Si didn't propose to take any chances, and so he marched 
the old negro to the guard headquarters and delivered him 
to the officer, who kept him till daylight, and then suffered 
him to go his wav. 




THEV KILLED HIM. 



271 



Once more, toward morning, Si was called out, in addi- 
tion to his tramps with the "reliefs" and the "grand 
rounds." It was, perhaps, an hour before daylight, and 
Shorty was the guard who called him. He told Si there 
was something walking around in the woods, and he be- 
lieved it was a rebel trying to creep up on them. He had 
challenged two or three times, but got no answer. The 
moon had gone down, and in the dark wood objects at any 
distance could not be distinguished. 

" There, d'j^e hear 



that?" said Shorty, as 
there came a sound of 
crackling sticks and 
rustling leaves. 

" Halt ! " exclaimed 
Si. "Who comes 
there?" 

There v^as no re- 
sponse, and Si chal- , 
lenged again, with like 
result. 

"Shorty," said Si, 
"let's fire, both to- 
gether," and crack 
went their muskets. 

For a moment there 
was a great flounder- 
ing, and then all was still. As soon as it was light, and 
Shorty w^as relieved, he and Si w^ent out to see the result 
of their fire. What they found is shown by the artist. 

On the whole it w^as a busy and interesting night for Si. 
He did not lose his chevrons on account of his mistakes. 
But he learned something, and the lesson was impressed 
upon his mind by a fewkindly words of caution and advice 
from the captain. 




A DEAD SHOT. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

Sr HAS A Varied Experience in Camp, and Goes upon an Exasper- 
ating "Wild Goose Chase." 



C C"\ 70U can take it easy to-day, boys, for we ain't goin" 
j[ to move," said the orderly of Company Q, one 
morning. "The orders is for to j)ut the camp in nice shape, 
and for the men to wash up. We're goin' to have an ex- 
tra ration of soap this inornin', and you fellows v^-a-nt to 
stir around lively and fix yerselvesas if it was Sunday and 
ye was goin' to meetin'. The fust thing after breakfast all 
hands '11 turn out and police the camp, 'cause the capt'n 
says we're goin' to stay here, mebbe, fer two or three 
weeks." 

The order to "take it easy" was most gratefully re- 
ceived. Ever since they took the field they had been kept 
" on the jump," with only now and then a brief halt of a 
few hours, or a day at most. This was the first time that 
even an attempt had been made to establish a well-ordered 
camp. 

"What 'n the world did the ord'ly mean by p'leecin' the 
camp?" Corporal Klegg asked Shorty, as they stood by 
the fire making coffee and warming up some fragments of 
chicken that had been left over from supper the night be- 
fore. "I didn't s'pose," said Si. "that we 'listed to be 
p'leecemen!' 

As soon as breakfast was over the orderly directed each 
man to provide himself with a small bundle of sticks, made 

272 



ANOTHER INDIGNITY. 



273 



bj putting together a dozen bits of brnsh or "switches" 
three or four feet long, such as are used by rural pedagogs 
to enforce discipline. These were the implements used in 
policing camp, which meant brushing the leaves and loose 
debris outside the grounds. 

"Does corporils have to do that sorto' thing?'' asked Si. 
He thought army regulations and camp usage ought to 
she w^ some consideration for his rank. "What's the use 
o' wearin' stripes," he said to himself, "ef it don't give a 
feller a chance to play off once 'n a while?" 

"Corporals ain't no better 'n anybody else," replied the 
orderly, " an' you can 
jest git some brush and 
go to work, 'long with 
the rest!" 

Si was disposed to 
grumble a little, but he <|i 
obeyed orders and was W'^ 
soon scratching up the J^v 
leaves and dust with, ^ 
great zeal. He did not 
find it a particularly 
pleasant occupation,^:- 
but the camp looked so " 
much better when the 
job was done, that he 
thought it was not a bad thing after all. 

"Now, Si," said Shorty, "let's go down to the creek 
and do our w^ashin'. My clothes has got to be biled, and 
I shouldn't wonder if j^ourn had, too !" 

"Yes, that's a fact !" said Si, sadly. 

They took a camp-kettle that had been used, and no 
doubt would be again, for making bean-soup, and started 
for the stream back of the camp. They had no change of 
clothing wath them. One by one their surplus garments 
had been flung away during the march, or had been 




POLICING ' CAMP. 



274 A LITTLE EXERCISE. 

"traded^' to the natives for poultr^^ They expected to 
have an opportunitj' to stock up for the winter when the 
campaign was over. 

•'Fall in for battalion drill!" 

These cruel words fell upon their ears just as they 
were starting for the stream. The colonel had suddenly 
bethought himself that it would be a good idea to put the 
boys through for an hour. He told the adjutant to turn 
out the regiment, and the rattle of drums and the yells of 
the orderly sergeants carried dismay to the hearts of the 
men. They had had just enough battalion drill, during 
the halts, to acquire a chronic aversion to it that never 
forsook them. 

"So that's the kind of an 'easy time' we're goin' ter 
have to-day!" exclaimed Si, as he and Shorty turned back 
in response to the summons. "Ef there 's anything 't I 
hate the wust, it's battalion drill. I sh'd think the col- 
onel might let up on us a leetle 'n' give the skin a chance 
to grow ag'in on our feet." 

There was a general chorus of grumbling as the men 
geared themselves up and took their places in line. The 
colonel galloped them around in the various regimental 
evolutions, winding up with a wild charge upon a 
hypothetical line of intrenchments that left everybody, 
except the officers who were on horseback, panting and 
breathless. Then the regiment was dismissed for the day, 
after the cheering announcement that while they remained 
in camp there would be four drills daily. 

Shorty proposed to his comrade that they make their 
projected trip to the creek, but Si's attention was absorbed 
in another direction. The camp was fast filling with peo- 
ple, black and white, from the region round about, with 
corn "pones, "alleged pies, boiled eggs and truck of various 
kinds, which they sought to dispose of for a valuable con- 
sideration. They struck a bad crowd, however, in a finan- 
cial sense. The members of the 200th Indiana were not 



AN INVESTMENT IN PIE. 275 

at this time in a condition of opulence, as they had not 
been out long enough to receive a visit from the paymaster. 
The lank men and scrawny women cried their w^ares vo- 
ciferously, but wath indifferent results. The boys wanted 
the stuff, but they were "broke " and trade was dull. 

Si looked wistfullj^atthe "jjies," and suggested to Shorty 
a joint investment. Their purses w^ere almost empty, but 
the temptation was great, and he thought they might 
raise enough to buy one. 

"Them looks nice," said Si. The}^ were the first pies he 
had seen since leaving home, and his judgment was a little 
warped. Indeed it w^as only by the greatest stretch of 
courtesy that they could be called pies at all. But the 
'word touched Si in a tender spot, and he thought only of 
such as his mother used to make. 

Si and Shorty "pooled in" and bought a pie. Impa- 
tiently whipping out his pocket knife Si tried to cut it in 
two. It was hard work, for the "crust" — so called — was 
as tough as the hide of a mule. By their united efforts 
they at length succeeded in sawing it asunder. It was a 
fearful and w'onderful specimen of culinary effort. It was 
made of tw^o slabs of sodden, leathery dough, wath a thin 
layer of stewed dried-apple sandwiched between them. Si 
tried his teeth on the pie, but it was like tr^'ing to chew^ an 
old boot-leg. 

"I say, oldlady,'' said he, turningtothe female of whom 
he had bought it, "is these pies pegged er sewed ? " 

"Look a hyar, young feller," said the w^oman, with con- 
siderable vinegar in her tone, "p'raps you-all thinks it's 
right smart to insult we-uns; it shows how yer w^uz 
broughten up. I don't 'low^ yer ever seed an}- nicer dog- 
goned pies 'n them is. Ye needn't try ter argefy 'long 'th 
m^, fur I kin jest knock the spots off 'n any woman thar 
is 'round here a-cookin'." 

Si saw that it would be profitless to discuss the matter. 



276 WHY THE FLOW OF CIDER STOPPED. 

and concluded to make the best of a bad bargain. But he 
couldn't eat the pie. 

On the whole the hucksters fared rather badly. The 
boys confiscated most of the stuff that was brought in, 
promising to pay next time they came that vv^ay. There 
was a good deal of friction, but the trouble always ended 
in the soldiers getting the plunder. 

The climax was reached when a putty-faced citizen drove 
into camp a bony mule, tied with straps and ropes and 
strings to a crazy cart, on which was a barrel of 
cider, which he "allowed" to sell out to the boys at ten 
cents a drink, or a quarter acanteen full. He had a spigot 
rigged in one end, and an old tin cup, with which he 
dealt out the seductive beverage to such as would buy. 

A thirsty crowd gathered around him, but sales were 
slow, on account of the scarcity of money. Si and Shorty 
mingled with the bo\^s, and then drew^ aside and engaged 
in a whispered consultation. 

"That'll be jest bully!" said Shorty. "Ef ye kin raise 
an auger somewhere we'll bamboozle that old chap." 

Si returned after a brief absence, with an auger which he 
had borrowed from the driver of an ammunition wagon. 

"Now, Short}^," said Si, "\^ou git the boA's ter stand 
'round 'n' keep up a racket, and 111 crawl under the cart 
and bore a hole inter that 'ere bar'l. Then pass in yer 
canteens and camp kettles 'n' we'll show the old man a 
trick!" 

Shorty quietly broached the scheme to a few of his com- 
rades, who fell in with it at once. Gathering around the 
cart they cheered and chattered so as to drown any noise 
Si might make while carrying out his plan, and w^hich 
would "give it awa3^" 

It was not more than a minute till a gurgling sound was 
heard, and Si began to jDass out to the boys the buckets 
and canteens, which they so freeh^ furnished him, filled with 
the fast-flowing contents of the barrel. It did not take 



jtW INDIGNANT CITIZEN. 



277 



long to empty it entirelj^, nor did the citizen discover the 
state of affairs until the cider no longer ran from the spigot. 

He had not sold more than a gallon or two, and was 
amazed when the liquid ceased to respond. Then he re- 
solved himself into an investigating committee, and after 
a protracted search he discovered the fraud that had been 
played on him. 

"Wall, I'll be gosh-durned!" he exclaimed, "I've heern 
tell 'bout Yankee tricks, but dog mj^ cats if this 'ere don't 
beat 'em all ! I'd like to cut the gizzard outen the rascal 
that bored the hole 'n that bar'l!" 




"a little more cider, too." 

"I declar', old pard, that iras mean!" said Si, who 
stood looking on, with his hands in his trousers' pockets, 
the picture of innocence. "I'm jest goin' ter flax 'round 'n' 
help ye find that feller. If I was j ou I'd jest wallop him — 
when ye cotch him !" 

The citizen, in high dudgeon, poured into the ears of the 
colonel the stor^' of his grievance, protesting ^vith great 
vehemence his lo\'alty to the old flag. The colonel told 
him that if he could identify the culprits they should be 
brought to justice. Of course he could do nothing, and he 



278 A WELCOME LUXURY. 

finally mounted his cart and drove away with the empty 
barrel . 

"Ef that old covey loves his country 's much 's he says 
he does," remarked Si, "I guess he kin Yord ter give her a 
bar'l o" cider!" 

After dinner Si and Shorty took the camp-kettle and 
again started for the stream. 

"Seems ter me," observed Si, " 'tain't hardly a fair shake 
for Uncle Sam ter make us do our washin'. They'd orter 
confisticate the niggers n' set them at it ; er I don't see 
why the guvyment can't furnish a washin' masheen for 
each comp'ny! 'Tvvouldn't be no more 'n the squar' 
thing!" 

"The wimmen does the washin', ye know, Si, up whar 
we live," said Shorty, ""n' I don't quite like the notion o' 
doin' that kind o' work, but I can't jest see how we're 
goin' ter git out of it. It's got ter be done, that's sure !" 

On the bank of the stream thej^ qviickly threw off their 
clothes for a bath. Si cast rueful glances at his garments 
as he laid them on the ground. 

"Hadn't we better pile some rocks on 'em, Shorty?" 
said he. "I'm afeard 'f we don't they'll crawl off inter the 
bush." 

"Guess we had," replied Short}-. "I b'lieve mine's 
started a-ready!" 

Having made sure that they would not find them 
"absent without leave" when they wanted them, they 
plunged into the water. Far up and down the stream 
were hundreds of men, swimming and splashing about. 
The soldiers availed themselves of every opportunity 
to enjoy this luxury. 

Having thoroughly performed their ablutions, Si and 
Short}^ turned their attention to the clothes, which were 
in such sore need of soap and hot water. Putting their 
trousers into the kettle and filling it with \vater, they built 
a roaring fire under it. After half an hour of vigorous 



SI TRIES AN EXPERIMENT. 



279 



boiling they concluded the clothes were "done.'" Plentv 
of soap, rubbing and rinsing finished the work, and they 
presented a quite respectable appearance. 

"How 're we goin' ter git 'em dry?" asked Si as he 
w^rung out his "wash." 

"Hang 'em on the fence in the sun ! " replied Shortj^ 

" But what'll we wear while thej-'re dryin' ? " 

"Nothin', I reckon!" 

So they spread them on the rails, put their shirts into the 
kettle, and then dashed ^ ^ 

again into the water. ,^^^^^^^^^^^^/^ 
After splashing awhile ^C"?^ 1^?/? 
thc}^ came out and drew f 'w'^ yi ^'P^ 
on their half-dried trou- ^ ^j 
sers. All along the -^STli 
stream w^ere soldiers in 
every stage of disha- 
bille, similarly engaged. J 
Shorty lighted his pipe 
as he and Si lay down \| 
upon the grass, after 
making a fresh fire un- 
der the kettle. 

" Sa}^ Shorty," said ig„,c-^.^=_— -^ -^="^0 
Si, " 'tain't very wacked y^^a3^^^^^^^^ 
ter smoke, is it?" 

"Guess not I'Svas the ---^ - ' 'r-^- _ :>ie*' 

reply. '^'^^ army laundry. 

"That's the w-a}^ it 'pears ter me, 'n' I've been kinder 
thinkin' lately that I'd larn how. The soljers all seems ter 
enjoy their smokin' so much. You know, Short3% that I 
was alius a reel good bo}- — never smoked, nor chawed ter- 
backer, nor cussed, nor done nothin' that was out o' the 
straight an' narrer way. When I jined the rijiment my 
good old mother saj^s to me: 'Now, Si,' saj^s she, 'I do 
hopeye'll 'member what I've alwaj^s taught ye. I've heern 




280 THE USUAL RESULT 

'em tell that they does drefful things in the army, ai\d I want 
ye to see if ye can't be as good a boy as yeVe been at 
home.' Of course I told her I would, 'n' I mean ter stick 
to it; but I don't b'lieve she'd keer 'f ] sh'd smoke. Is 
it hard ter learn ? " 

''Wall, I d'know; ye can't most always tell till ye try. 
Take a whiff, and see how she goes. I reck'n ef ye go 
through the war 'n' don't larnnuthinwuss'nsmokin', ye'll 
do purty well." And Shorty handed him his pipe, which 
he had just refilled with whittlings of black plug. 

"I b'lieve I'll jest try it,'' said Si. "I s'pose I kin quit 
easy 'nough, 'f I want ter, when I go home." 

He took the pipe and began to puff with great energy. 
He made a few wry faces at first, but Shorty told him to 
stick to it, and he bravely pulled awaj^, while the clouds of 
smoke curled above him. Soon the color left his face, his 
head was in a whirl, and his stomach began to manifest 
eruptive symptoms. 

"Short3%" he gasped, "I'm av^fulsick. If smokin' makes 
a feller feel like this, I don't want any more of it in mine." 

"Whar's all yer sand ye brag so much 'bout? " said 
Shorty, laughing. " Ye're mighty poor timber for a soljer 
if ye can't stan' a little pipe o' terbacker like that. Ye'll 
get over it purty soon, and it won't bother ye any next 
time ye try it." 

Si found that he had about as much as he could manage 
with his dizzy head and the internal rebellion that was so 
actively going on. He rolled and writhed about in a state 
of abject misery. 

Suddenly there came from the camp a sound that brought 
Shorty to his feet. 

"Hello, Si," he shouted, "don't ye hear the drums rat- 
tlin' 'n' the bugles tootin' ? Ther's suthin upfer sure. Git 
vp, pard, we'll have ter skin out o' here right quick!" 

From far and near the alarm came to their ears, and on 



A WILD RUSH FOR CAMP. 



181 



every hand were seen half-dressed officers and men running 
toward their respective regiments. 

Shorty seized the kettle in which the shirts were being 
boiled, turned out the water, and dashed toward camp. 
Si followed as fast as he was able, though his head seemed 
to spin like a top. The exercise made him feel bet- 
ter, and by the time he reached the regiment he had nearly 
recovered. Officers were shouting "Fall in!'' and orderlies 
were tearing around in frantic zeal urging the men to "be 
lively." 



rnWmmvmK 




A SCAMPER IN DISHABILLE. 

There was no time to ask or answer the questions that 
were in everybody's mouth in regard to the cause of the 
sudden alarm. 

"What '11 we do 'bout our shirts?'' asked Si of his com- 
rade. "How 's a feller goin' ter march 'n this kind of a 
fix?" 

"We'll have ter tote 'em 'long t'll we git a chance ter 
cool 'em off 'n' put em on," replied Shorty. "Git into yer 
olouse 'n' sling on 3'er traps, quick ""s ever ye kin !" 



282 THE DELUSION OF "FIXING UP." 

Just before stepping into ranks Si and Shorty fished their 
steaming and dripping shirts out of the kettle and hung 
them on their bayonets. They cut a grotesque figure, and 
were the target of man}' a jest from those of their com- 
rades who had not been similarly caught. At the first 
halt they managed to put on their shirts, and resumed the 
march in a most uncomfortable condition. They had rea- 
son to repent their attempt to check the ravages of the 
pediculi. 

A small detail from each comjiany was ordered to re- 
main to strike the tents, load the wagons, and serve as a 
guard for the train. The hastily formed column filed out 
upon the road and started off at a plunging gait. 

"Is this what they calls havin' 'n easy day, thrashin' 
'round on battalion drill, 'n' then marchin' off 't a hoss- 
trot?" said Si, struggling and puffing in his efforts to keep 
his place in the ranks. " The^^ said we was goin' ter stay 
awhile 'n that camp 'n' git rested up. Looks like it, don't 
it?^' 

"The best way fer ye ter do," replied Shorty, "is jest ter 
b'lieve nothin' 't anybody tells ye 'n the army. 'Tain't 
half the time 't the ossifers knows theirselves, 'n'ef they do 
like as not they'll tell ye t'other way. Soljerin' 's queer 
kind o' business!" 

This was not the last time that the men of the 200th 
Indiana, after fixing up a nice camp under the delusive be- 
lief that they were going to "take it easy ' for a few days 
or weeks, had their work for nothing. Sometimes in mid- 
summer they put up awnings of boughs over their tents 
to temper the sun's fierce heat ; or in winter they built fire- 
places and chimneys of brick or stones or sticks and clay, 
which added greatly to the comfort of their frail tenements. 
"Marching orders" were usually delayed until just as these 
improvements were finished, but if, within twenty-four 
hours after this, the regiment did not "pull out" it was an 
exception to the rule. An order for the men to put the camp 



A DUSTY TRAMP. 283 

in good shape and make themselves comfortable, came to 
be considered as the equivalent of an order to move — if it 
was only over to the next field, where all the work had to 
be done over again. 

The rushing column swept on with undiminished speed, 
halting a few minutes at long intervals for the panting 
soldiers to get their breath. The shuffling of manj^feet on 
the dry limestone road filled the air with a thick cloud of 
dust that enveloped the men, covering their garments, en- 
tering their eyes, mouths and noses, and clinging to their 
sweating faces. A soldier could not recognize the muddy 
countenance of his nearest comrade. Knapsacks and car- 
tridge boxes grew heav}^ and the straps and belts ground 
the dust into the smarting flesh. 

At sundown there was a halt of half an hour. The men 
were directed to make coffee and brace themselves for an 
all-night march. They washed the dirt from their hands 
and faces, lighted fires, and hurriedly prepared their even- 
ing meal. Wild rumors flew from mouth to mouth that 
they would charge upon a large body of the enemy at day- 
light, and the rising sun would no doubt look upon a 
bloody scene of carnage. These were the more readily be- 
lieved from the fact that such a furious march was con- 
sidered prima facie evidence that something extraordinary 
was about to happen, and it was more likely to be a fight 
than anything else. 

It was nearly dark when the column was again formed. 
Backs and shoulders and legs were already aching, and 
hearts sank at the prospect of the long, wear^^ night's 
tramp; but nerved by the thought of a battle the men 
of the 200th stepped firmly and briskly, bent on keep- 
ing up with the veterans who were stretching ahead of 
them, and out of the way of those who were close upon 
their heels. Again the cloud of dust enveloped them, hang- 
ing heavily in the damp night air, through which they 



284 AN ALL-NIGHT MARCH. 

groped their way. Covered with a mantle of white thej 
looked like a procession of ghosts as they plodded on. 

Nine o'clock — ten — eleven — midnight, and on they march, 
with now and then a few minutes of rest. The officers 
speak words of sympathy and encouragement to the toil- 
ing men. It is a critical emergency and they must keep in 
their places. How the muscles twinge with pain, and 
wliat torture to the tender leet as thty tread, hour after 
hour, the hard pike! No laugh or jest is heard. Save an 
occasional moan or cry extorted by keen suffering, there 
is no sound but the clatter of horses' hoofs upon the flinty 
road and the ceaseless tramp — tramp — of the tottering 
soldiers. 

One — two — three o'clock, and still "forward" is the 
•word. Exhausted and bent and racked with pain, the 
burdened forms mechanically drag themselves along. 
Overcome by fatigue and drowsiness men fall asleep and 
march in their dreams. They stumble one against an- 
other and in this rude way are brought back to con- 
sciousness. Sometimes they are awakened by rolling into 
the ditch by the roadside, or coming in collision with pro- 
truding fence-rails. * 

During the night there was no opportunity for refresh- 
ment except such as could be derived from the dry hard- 
tack, eaten on the march or at the halts by the wayside. 
Morning dawi.ed at length, upon a struggling mass of 
men, fainting and footsore, exhausted to the verge of 
human endurance. The column halted and was formed in 
order of battle. The 200th Indiana appeared to be all 
there, but it was in the poorest possible condition for 
action, if there had been any fight to go into — which of 
course there was not. It was a hard night for Si Klegg, 
but Shorty had helped him along by carrying his gun now 

* It was a common thing, when soldiers went for da^^sand nights with- 
out rest, for infantrymen to sleep as they marched and cavalrymen a? 
they rode their horses. 



MAGNIFICENT STRATEGY. 285 

and then, and da^-light found him "here," ready to do 
anj' thing that was asked of him. It was more severely 
trying than anything he had been through before. He did 
not say much ; there was nothing to be said, and he had 
not a breath to spare for unnecessary words. 

For two hours the soldiers lay on their arms while the 
general sent out some men on horseback to reconnoiter. 
He had heard that several hundred rebel troopers were en- 
camped in that vicinity, and the brilliant expedition was for 
the purpose of surprising and capturing them. Part of 
the Union forces had been marched around so as to close in 
on all sides of the camp, and it w^as scientifically planned 
that not a man should escape to tell the tale. But the rebels 
w^ere gone — and had been for two days. They were only 
a squad of a few dozen guerrillas, anyway. The 200th 
Indiana and the rest of the regiments were there ' ' holding 
the sack," but the game had fled. 

Then the men w^ere told to stack arms, break ranks, and 
get their breakfast. Two hours later they started back 
for the same spot they left in such mad haste the day 
before. It took them two days to return the thirty miles 
they had traveled. The wagons, which w^ere met slowly 
trailing along, were turned about and followed in the rear. 
When the soldiers reached their camp and pitched their 
tents on the old ground the}' were physically "used up," 
and mentalh' in a state of supreme disgust over the inglo- 
rious result of their impetuous march. Si tried to give 
Shorty his opinion of such a "wild goose chase,'' but for 
once language failed him and he said it wasn't an^^ use to 
try. But he had a good many similar experiences before 
the war was over, and when he became more skilled in the 
use of unparliamentary language he succeeded better in ex- 
pressing his opinions concerning such strategic maneuvers. 



CHAPTER XXII. 

Corporal Klegg Gets a Little Practice in Confiscating, has a Vig- 
orous Colic, and Joins the Procession at Sick-Call. 

FROM twelve to sixteen miles was an easy day's 
march. To a person wholly unincumbered this 
would be no more than a pleasant stroll. But when a 
soldier, with the burden he was obliged to carry even 
Avhen stripped of all unnecessary weight, had tramped that 
distance, he was glad enough to "call it a day." On long 
journeys, when there was no occasion for haste, the troops 
were not often pushed to greater speed ; though at critical 
times, when the need was urgent, thirty and even forty 
miles were made within twenty-four hours, but it taxed to 
the utmost the power of endurance. When not under press- 
ure, it was customary to start early in the day and go into 
camp by two o'clock. Occasional marches of this kind, 
with changes of camp, were greatly conducive to health 
and comfort, and were far preferable to occupying the 
same ground for months at a time. The soldiers never 
grumbled at these pilgrimages, unless they weie made in 
bad weather. Nor did they complain of the severest 
marching when it was necessary ; but there was a great deal 
of wild cavorting over the country that, to the untutored 
mind of the rank and file, seemed wholly needless. It may 
have been an essential factor in bringing the final victory, 
but the soldiers could not understand it that way. It 
sent many men to the hospitals, and seriously impaired 
the tempers of those who were able to endure it. 

2SB 



THE 200TH BEGINS TO SHRINK. 287 

Those regiments were fortunate which were permitted 
by circumstances to pass gradually through the seasoning 
process that made men soldiers, capable of enduring the ex- 
posure and hardships of active campaigning. A harder fate 
had fallen to the lot of the 200th Indiana. While yet 
"raw" in the largest sense, it was forced to begin at the 
"butt end." Its ranks had thinned rapidlj^ In every 
town through which the army passed, the buildings 
were turned into hospitals and filled with sick and crippled 
men from the new regiments, who had fallen by the way. 
Not half of these ever rejoined their commands for duty. 
Many regiments were thus as much reduced in a few 
weeks as others had been in twice as many months. The 
200th had jogged along bravely, but had suffered its share 
of decimation. Not less than a third of its men had " given 
out," and were taking quinine and blue-mass, and rubbing 
arnica on their legs along the tortuous route. 

Corporal Si Klegg and Shorty proved to be "stayers." 
Full of life and ambition, they were always prompt for 
duty and ready for a fight or a frolic. No one was more 
quick than Si to offer a suffering comrade the last drop of 
fresh water in his canteen, or to give him a lift by carrying 
part of his load for an hour. 

One day the regiment started out for a comfortable 
march. The coast was clear of rebels, and, there being no 
excuse for crowding on the steam, the boys were allowed 
to take their own gait, while the horses of the officers and 
the cavalry had a chance to recover their wind. 

It was a warm day, late in October. The nights at this 
time were keen and frosty, but the sun at mid-day still 
showed much of his summer vigor. Perspiration flowed 
freely down the faces of those wandering Hoosiers — faces 
that were fast assuming the color of half-tanned leather 
under the influence of sunshine and storm. 

Once an hour there was the customary halt, when the 
boj's would stretch themselves by the roadside^ hitching 



288 PROCLAMATIONS AGAINST FORAGING. 

their knapsacks vip under their heads. AYIien the allotted 
time had expired the bugler blew the "fall in," the notes 
of which during the next two years became so familiar to 
their ears. All were in good spirits. As the\- marched 
the}' pelted one another with jests, and laughter rippled 
along the column. 

The only thing that troubled them was the emaciated 
condition of their haversacks, with a corresponding state 
of affairs in their several stomachs. The commissary 
department was thoroughly demoralized. The supply 
train had failed to connect, and rations w^ere almost ex- 
hausted. There was no prosjDcct that the aching void 
would be filled, at least in the regular way, for two or 
three days, until the\' reached a depot of sup^Dlies. 

At this stage of the war strict orders against foraging 
were issued almost dail}^ These were often read impres- 
sively to the men of the 200th Indiana, who, in their sim- 
plicity, "took it all in " as niilitary gospel. The effect was 
somewhat depressing upon the ardor with which, other- 
wise, they would have pursued the panting pig and the 
fluttering fowl, and reveled in the orchards and jootato- 
fields. A few irrepressible fellows managed to get a choice 
meal now and then— just enough to show that the 200th 
Indiana w^as not \vithout latent talent, wdiich only needed 
a little encouragement to become fruitful of results. 

These sounding proclamations against foraging were 
received by the veterans with less solemnit3^ They had 
been heard so many times that thc}^ had lost their force. 
By long and successful practice these old soldiers had be- 
come skilled in the many ingenious arts by which such 
rejjulations were evaded. When rations were short the 
"will" to suppK' the deficiency always found a "way," if 
there was an^'thing to be had ; or if the appetite craved a 
change from the monotonous regulation diet, the means to 
do so were not \vanting. Many a regimental and com- 
pany officer, who proclaimed these orders to his men, and 



THE ORDERS GREW STALE. 289 

in Avords of thundering sound avowed his determination 
to enforce them, was moved to condone a flagrant offens 
by a propitiatory offering of a leg of mutton, a spare-rib, 
a chicken or a "mess' of sweet potatoes. Indeed, some of 
the generals seemed to feel that they had filled the measure 
of duty in the issuance of orders, permitting the soldiers 
to put their own interpretation upon them. The latter 
were not slow to construe them in the most liberal man- 
ner. The new troops proved apt learners. For the first 
few days, with the orders ringing in their ears, they 
marched along without daring so much as to pluck an 
apple. But when thc}^ saw the old soldiers throttling 
fowls, bayoneting fatlings, and filling their haversacks 
with the fruit of orchard and field, they naturally felt that 
there ought to be a more equitable adjustment of things. 
It was not long till they were able to get their full share 
of whatever the country afforded. 

During the earh^ stage of the war the only authorized 
foraging w^as done in an official way. There w^ere times 
when supplies for men and animals were necessary. Ex- 
peditions were sent out under the direction of quarter- 
masters, who gave receipts for all property taken from 
loyal men, and these were honored in cash by the govern-' 
ment. As the armies pushed their way farther into the 
rebellious states the restrictions upon fence-rails, straw 
stacks, and forage of every kind fell into what a modern 
chief magistrate of the nation would call "innocuous 
desuetude." A year before the war closed thev had prac- 
tically^ disappeared. The enemy w^as assaulted in purse as 
well as in person, and if a soldier — or an officer — saw^ any- 
thing that he needed he " w^ent for it." If he could not see 
what he wanted he hunted until he found it. 

On the day in question a few hints w^ere throw^n out to 
the 200th Indiana which resulted in a tacit understandins 
that, in view of the actual need of the soldiers, if the}' got 
a good chance to pick up something the eyes of the officers 



290 THE PUCKERING PERSIMMON. 

would be closed. In fact the latter were as hungry as the 
men, and hoped to come in for a "divide." 

Soon after starting in the morning a persimmon tree, 
well laden with fruit, was seen in a field not far from the 
road. About fifty men started for it on a run, and in five 
minutes it was as bare as the barren fig tree. 

The persimmon has some very marked peculiarities. It 
is a toothsome fruit when well ripened by frost, but if eaten 
before it has reached the point of full maturity, the effect 
upon one's interior is unique and startling. The pungent 
juices take hold of the mouth and pucker it up in such a 
manner as to make even speech for a time impossible. The 
tongue seems as if it were tied in a knot. If the juice be 
swallowed similar results follow all along its course. But 
the novice does not often get far enough for that. 

The boys soon found that the 'simmons, although they 
looked very tempting, were too green to be eaten with any 
degree of enjoyment. So they filled their pockets with 
them to pucker up the mouths of their comrades. Shorty 
had joined in the scramble, telling his comrade he would 
bring him a good supply. 

"Ain't them nice?" he said to Si, holding out three or 
four of the greenest ones he could find . * ' Eat 'em ; they're 
jest gorjus ! Ye can't help likin' on 'em ! " 

Si had never before seer» a persimmon. Eagerly seizing 
them he tossed one into his mouth and began to chew 
it vigorously. The persimmon at once took hold with a 
mighty grip, wrinkling him up like the skins on scalded 
milk. 

After sputtering furiously a few minutes, while Shorty 
laughed at him. Si managed to get his tongue untwisted. 

"Yes," said he, "them things is nice — in a horn! 
'Twouldn't take many on 'em to make a meal ! " 

A little farther along Si's quick eye noticed a row of bee- 
hives standing on a bench in the yard of one of the natives. 
He had a weakness for honey. 



SI S ADVENTUPE WITH THE BEES. 



291 



"Shorty," said he, "see them hives over thar? How 'd 
ye hke ter have some honey fer supper? " 

Shorty "allowed" that it would be a good thing. Si 
stopped and waited a few minutes until his own regiment 
got past, thinking his plan would be less liable to inter- 
ruption. Then he leaped over the fence, went up to the 
hives, and boldly tipped one of them over, hoping he could 
get out a comb or two, fill his coffee-kettle, and effect 
his retreat before the bees really found out what he was 
doing. But the bees 



instantly rallied their 
forces and made a 
vigorous assault up- 
on the invader. Si 
saw that it would be 
too hot for him, and '-^ 
without standing up- 
on the order of his go- 
ing he went at once, ^ 
in a decidedh^ panicky 
condition. The bees 
made the most of their 
opportunity, using 
their "business ends" 
on him with great ac- 
tivity and zeal. They'-^ 
seemed to fully share 
the common feeling- in the busy bee, 

the South toward the "Yanks." 

A disheveled woman, smoking a cob-pipe, had watched 
Si's raid from the door-way, with a stormy face. As he 
fell back in utter rout she screamed, "Sarves ye right!" 
and then sat down on the doorstep and laughed till she 
cried. She enjoyed it as much as the bees did. The latter 
took hold of Si in various places, and by the time he caught 
up with the regiment one eye Wcis closed, and there was a 




292 FORDING A STREAM. 

big lump on his nose, besides several more stings wbicli the 
bees had judicioush' distributed about his person. It was 
very evident that he had been overmatched, and had come 
out second best in the encounter. Corporal Klegg pre- 
sented a picturesque appearance as he reached Companj' 
Q, and the boys screamed with delight. 

"Whar's yer honey?" said Shorty. "'Pears like ye 
waked up the wrong passenger that time ! " 

Si laughed with the rest, rubbed salt on his stings, and 
plodded on, consoling himself with the thought that his 
was not the only case in which the merit of earnest effort 
had gone unrewarded. 

During the march a large stream was reached, the bridge 
over which had been burned. The Avater was waist deep. 
If the regiment had been moving rapidly to meet an emer- 
gency the men would not have stopped for a moment. 
Unclasping their cartridge-box belts they would have 
plunged into the water without removing a single garment, 
carrying their muskets and ammunition so as to keep them 
dry. But at this time the regiment was not under press- 
ure and a halt was ordered. The colonel directed the men 
to strip, and they quickly divested themselves of their 
clothes. These and their numerous ** traps " were bundled 
up and hoisted upon fixed bayonets or carried upon the 
head. Then the bugle sounded and the fantastic procession 
entered the water. The grotesquely ridiculous appearance 
of the men provoked shouts of laughter. 

Short men were at a disadvantage, and Corporal Klegg 
had as much as he could do to resist the sweej) of the cur- 
rent that threatened to carry him off his feet, as he care- 
fully felt his Avay along the stony bottom. It was difficult 
for one to assist another, as each had his hands fully occu- 
pied in the carriage of his clothing and accouterments. 
"When about midway Si's foot slipped on a treacherous 
stone and he went down with a great splash, submerging 
himself and his burden, while everybody yelled. 



SI S CALAMITY. 



293 



Shorty had thoughtfully arranged his load so as to 
have one hand free, and had kept near Si, that he might be 
of service in case of accident. He seized his unfortunate 
comrade just in time to save him from being borne away 
by the rushing stream, and got him upon his feet again. 
Si came up half strangled and spouting like a whale. But 
for Shorty's timely aid he would have been forced to jetson 
his cargo and swim for his life. Shorty kept his hand until 
the bank was safely reached. Si had clung to all his things, 
but they were well soaked. Many others of the regiment 




THE 200th INDIANA TAKES TO THE WATER. 

had similar watery' experiences, and some of them were less 
fortunate, losing their guns and equipments. Loss of life 
while crossing streams in this w^ay was not an uncommon 
occurrence. 

During the brief time allowed the men to "dress up," SI 
wrung out his dripping garments and drew them on. The 
warm sun quicklj^ dried them, and he w^as none the worse 
for his mishap. 

"I reck'n they'd let me jine the Babtist church now," he 
said to Shorty. 
• Soon after noon the regiment came to a large patch of 



294 



IN A SWEET POTATO PATCH. 



sweet potatoes. Si and Short}^ as well as many of the 
rest, thought it would be a good place to lay in a supply 
for supper, as they might not have another such chance. 
From all parts of the column the soldiers, by dozens, dashed 
into the field. In a moment there was a man at every hill, 
digging awa}^ with his bayonet, and chucking the tempt- 
ing tubers into his haversack. The artist has pictured the 
scene in a manner that will touch a responsive chord in 
the memories — not to mention the stomachs — of the vet- 
erans of the war. 

Two hours before going into camp the regiment passed 

a small spring, around 
which a crowd of sol- 
diers were struggling to 
fill their canteens. There 
had been a long "Stretch 
without fresh -water, and 
Si thought he would sup' 
ply himself. 

" Gimme your canteen, 
too, Short3% and I'll fill 
it," he said, "ef ye'll jest 
carry my gun." 

" Here, Si, you're a 
bully boy, take mine!" 
" Mine, too ! " " And 
mine! " said one after another of his comrades. Si good- 
naturedly complied, and they loaded him down with 
a dozen canteens. 

"All right," said Si, "I'll be 'long with 'em full d'reckly ! " 
He had to wait for his turn at the spring, and by the 
time he had filled all the canteens he was half an hour be- 
hind. Slinging them around his neck he started on, with 
just about as big a load as he could carry. He forged 
ahead, gradually gaining a little by the tardy movement 
of the column that generally preceded going into camp. 




A PREMATURE HARVEST. 



LOVE S LABOR LOST, 



295 



The canteen straps chafed his shoulders, his back ached, 
and perspiration flowed in streams. The smoke of the 
campfires ahead told that the end of the day's march was 
near. He kept on and finally came up with Company Q 
just as the 200th was stacking arms on the bank of a 
clear stream. He threw dowm his burden of canteens, 
well-nigh exhausted. 

"Purty good load, w^a'n't it. Si?" said Shorty. "But 
what made ye lug all that w^ater in here ? When ye seen 
they was goin' into camp ahead ye might ha' knowed there 
■was plenty o' w^ater. Why in blazes didn't ye turn the 
water out o' them 'ere 
canteens?" 

' ' I never thought o' 
that," said Si, while 
the boys joined in a 
hearty laugh. 

At the command 
"Break ranks" there 
was a general scamper 
to engage in the work 
of getting supper and 
preparing to spend the 
night. The members 
of each mess scattered 
in all directions, some ^ "bully boy's" burden. 

for water, rails and straw, while others scoured the ad- 
jacent region for edibles. The utmost activity character- 
ized these operations. It w^as "every one for himself," 
and he w^ho stirred around wath the greatest zeal was 
likely to fare best. 

Si threw off his traps and dropped on the ground to rest 
a few minutes, but got up presently to scratch around 
with the rest. As he took hold of his haversack he was 
surprised at its lightness. When he laid it down it was 




296 HOW SI "got even." 

bulging out with sweet potatoes, and a glance showed him 
that these were all gone. 

" Durn my buttons !" exclaimed Si, as he forgot his wear- 
iness, and his eyes flashed fire. " Ef I cim a corporil, I kin 
jest mash the feller 't stole my 'taters, I don't keer if he's 
ten foot high. Won't somebody show 'im to me ? Thar 
won't be 'nuff of 'im left to hold a fun'ral over!" 

Si pranced around in a high state of indignation, and 
there is little doubt that if he had found the purloiner of 
his provender there would have been a harder fight, in 
proportion to the forces engaged, than any that had yet 
occurred during the war. 

The boys w^inked slyly at one another, and all said it was 
too bad. It was a startling case of turpitude, and Si de- 
termined to have revenge by getting even on some other 
fellow, without pausing to consider questions which apper- 
tain more to theology than to war. 

"Come 'long with me, Shorty !" he said to his friend, and 
they strode away. Just outside the camp they came upon 
two members of some other new regiment coming into 
camp, with a fine pig slung over a pole and two or three 
chickens in their hands. Short}^ suggested to Si that this 
was a good chance for him to even up. 

"Halt there!" shouted Si to the foragers. "We're sent 
out ter pick up jest sich fellers 's you !" 

The effect was like a shot from a cannon. The men 
dropped their plunder and fled in wild confusion. 

" Take hold o' that pole. Shorty !" said Si, and laying it 
upon their shoulders they made a triumphant entry into 
camp. 

There seemed to be no danger of immediate starvation 
in the ranks of the 200th. Each man had supplied himself 
abundantly. Fires gleamed brightly in the gathering twi- 
light, and around them crowded the hungry soldiers in- 
tent upon making ready the feast. 
Up to this time the doctors of the 200th Indiana had 



THE REGIMENTAL DOCTORS. 



29? 



found little to do, aside from issuing salve and arnica to 
assuage the pain of blisters and lame legs and shoulders. 
The men had started out in good physical condition, and 
there had been scarcely time for disease to make serious 



ravages among them. 



Si Klegg was a good specimen of a robust Hoosier lad — 
for he could scarcely be called a man yet. Since he lay 
in his cradle and was dosed with paregoric and catnip tea 
like other babies, he had never seen a sick day. He had 
done all he could to starve the doctors. 




LAYING IN SUPPLIES. 



When the reo-iment took the field it had the usual outfit 
of men -who wrote their names sandwiched between a mil- 
itary title in front and "M. D." behind. It had a big hos- 
pital tent, and an apothecary shop on wheels, loaded to 
the guards with quinine, blue-mass, castor oil, epsom salts 
— everything in fact that was known to medical science as 
a cure for the ills to which flesh is heir. As yet the doctors 
had not done much but hold a continual dress-parade in 
their shiny uniforms. 

The next day the march was continued. On going into 
camp the 200th, being well in the advance, struck a field 



298 



A FEAST AND WHAT FOLLOWED. 



of late corn with a good crop of ears just at the right 
stage for roasting or boiling. Adjoining this was an 
apple orchard loaded with fruit. The boys quickly laid in 
an enormous supply, lighted fires, and an hour later were 
enjoying a roj^al feast, 

*' Now this is suthin like !" said Si, as he squatted on the 

ground along with Shorty and half a dozen messmates. 

They surrounded a camp-kettle full of steaming ears, and 

Haifa bushel or so of apples heaped on a poncho. 

*'Wish we had some o' mother's butter to grease this 

corn with," observed 
Si, as he flung a cob 
into the fire and seized 
a fresh ear. 

All agreed that Si's 
head was level on the 
butter question, but 
under all the circum- 
stances they were glad 
enough to have the 
corn without butter. 
The ears went off with 
amazing rapidity. 

£^ ^ --^^' , Every man seemed to 

A RED-LETTER DAY, bc afraid hc wouldn't 

get his share. When the kettle was empty the boys 
turned themselves loose on the apples, utterly reckless 
of results. When Si got up he burst half the buttons 
off his clothes. It was not long till he began to wish 
he had eaten an ear of corn and an apple or two less. He 
didn't feel very well. He turned in early, thinking he 
would go to sleep and be all right in the morning. 

Along in the night he uttered a yell that came near 
stampeding the company. An enormous colic was raging 
in his interior, and he fairly howled with pain. He 
thought he was going to die immediately. 




A MlDNIGHl' VELl.. 



299 



■ Shorty,' he said, between the gripes, to his comrade, 
"I'm afeard I'm goin' up the spout. Arter I'm gone you 
write to — to — Annie, and tell her I died fer my country, 
like a man. I'd ruther been shot than die wnth the colic, 
but I spose 'twon't make much diff'runce arter it's all 
over!" 

"I'll do it," replied Shorty. "We'll plant ye 'n good 
shape ; and. Si, we'll gather up the corn-cobs and build a 
moniment over ye!" 

But Si w^asn't cutoff in the bloom of youth by that colic. 
His eruptive condition 
frightened Shorty 
however, and, though 
he was in nearly as 
bad shape himself, he 
went up and routed 
out one of the doctors, i 
who growled a good' 
deal about being dis- 
turbed. 

the supper scattered /^ -:> -•'■ 
about the camp told 
the doctor what was ^^:; 
the matter, and he had 
no need to make a criti- 
cal diagnosis of Si's ' ^^^^^ '^^'^ °^ ^°"^- 
case. He administered a dose of something that eased 
the pain a little, and Si managed to rub along through 
the night. 

Fortunately for Si, and for more than half the members 
of the regiment, the army did not start early the following 
day. At the usual hour in the morning the bugler blew 
the "sick-call." A regiment of grizzly veterans lay next 
to the 200th Indiana, and as Si lay groaning in his tent 
he heard them sing the words that became so familiar to 
him afterward. 



c i; 

The debris of ^^^^ 




300 



"git yer quinine!'* 



"Fall in fer yer ipecac!" shouted the orderly. Si joined 
the cadaverous pro- ^ u 



cession and went Ffer^ri— ±^ 
wabbling up to the •^ «r— »- 






1^ 



"doctor's" shop- — 
with a discouraged ^ 
air. 

It was a regular 
matinee that day. 



Git yer qui 

T N- 



nlnel Git yer qui - ninel 



^— tr 



-■^:^- 



Tum-ble up you sick, and 

T^ N :: 



lame and blind; 



^- 



-- N — K- 



;^^si 



hind. 



The SUrP'eon and his ^^* * * ^^'^^ right smart, you'll be left be 

assistants were all "sick-call." 

on hand, as the colicky squads came to a focus in front of 

the tent. The doctors 
worked off the patients 
at a rapid rate, gen- 
erally prescribing the 
same medicine for all, 
no matter what ailed 
them. This was the 
wa}' the army doctors 
always did, but it hap- 
pened in this case that 
they were not far 
wrong, as the ail- 
ments, arising from a 
common cause, were 
much the same. When 
Si's turn came he re- 
ceived a liberal ration 
of medicine from the 

hospital steward, and the doctor gave him a "pass" to 

ride that day in an ambulance. 




SI INTERVIEWS THE DOCTOR. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

Tirs Army has a Spasm of Morality and Rests on Sunday— It 
Proves a Cold Day for Shorty. 

DURING the very few days that the 200th Indiana lay 
in camp before entering upon the campaign, nothing 
was thought of except getting the regiment into condition 
for immediate service. There was no opportunity to learn 
the customary details of camp life. Then it spent three or 
four weeks cantering over the country, trying v^ithout 
success to find a battle to get into. Now that the chase 
after the fleet-footed rebels had been abandoned, attention 
was given to the prescribed daily routine of duty. The 
wagons that w^ere left behind when the army moved had 
rejoined the regiment, and the men once more had tents to 
sleep in. 

The campaign had been a disappointment to Si Klegg. 
"When the troops entered upon it, in such imposing array, 
he fully expected that the opposing rebel army would be 
exterminated. One insignificant brush with the enemy 
was the nearest approach to a battle that he had seen. 
His impatience knew no bounds when,^tthe sound of half 
a dozen shots on the skirmish-line, the whole army halted, 
performed grand maneuvers, formed line of battle, threw 
up entrenchments and solemnly waited to be attacked by 
the enemy, who was all the time trying so hard to get 
aw^ay. 

"I'd jest like ter show 'em how ter run a war," he said 
to Shorty. "I wouldn't have so much tomfoolery goin' 

301 



302 "retreat" and "tattoo." 

on. We \Yalksour legs off tryin' terfind the Johnnies so 's 
we kin thrash 'em, 'n' 's soon 's we cotches 'em we don't 
do nothin' but stan' 'n' make faces at 'em, 's ef we was a 
lot o' boys. Now they've got away fergood 'n' ther' ain't 
nobody hurt on ary side. Wish 't they'd make me a gin- 
'ral. Mebbe I wouldn't whip the rebels but I'd try my 
level best. Ther' 'd be a fight, anyway." 

After a while the "gin'rals" fell into Si's way of think- 
ing. Then came fierce fighting, and at last the end. Si was 
glad when he heard that a new commander had been ap- 
pointed to lead that army. He did not have to wait much 
longer to know what it was to go through a great battle. 

"Fall in, Compan}^ Q, for retreat! ' shouted the orderly 
one Saturday evening, as the drums rattled at sunset. 

"What we goin' to retreat fer. Shorty? " asked Si, with 
alarm. "The rebils hain't whipped us, have they? I'm 
mighty sartin 't I ain't licked yet. The folks to home '11 
think we're all a pack o' cowards ef we go ter runnin'back 
'thout havin' a fight." 

"It don't mean that, Si," replied his comrade. "When 
ye hear the bugles blowin' 'n' the drums beatm' fer roll-call 
at sundown, that 's what they calls 'retreat.' " 

"I can't see no sense 'n givin' 't that name," said Si. 
"I alius thought retreat meant runnin' the wrong way. 
'Pears like words don't have the same meanin' 'n the army 
't they does up 'n Injianny." 

Si had new cause for wonder two or three hours later 
when another call Avas sounded and the company was 
ordered to fall in for "tattoo." In his eagerness for in- 
formation he asked Shorty if they had all got to be tattooed 
like the cannibals he had seen pictures of, and if so what 
it was for. Short^^ told him that "tattoo " was the name 
given by the army regulations to the call for everybody to 
go to bed. 

"I hope I'll git all these curus things larned arter a 
while," said Si. 



KEEPING TRACK OF GILNDAY. 303 

As a matter of fact the army did get pretty thoroughly 
"tattooed " during the war. Every regiment had its tat- 
tooers, with outfits of needles and India-ink, who for a 
consideration decorated the limbs and bodies of their com- 
rades with flags, muskets, cannons, sabers, and an infinite 
varietv of patriotic emblems and warlike and grotesque 
devices. Some of these men were highly artistic and did 
their work in a manner that would have been creditable 
to a South Sea Islander. Thousands of the soldiers had 
name, regiment and residence "pricked" into their arms 
or legs. In poitions of the army this was recommended 
in general orders, to afford means of identification if killed 
in battle. It was like writing one's own epitaph, but the 
custom prevented many bodies from being buried in "un- 
known ' graves. 

"Tomorrow's Sunday, ye know!" said the orderly at 
"retreat." 

This was in the nature of news to the boys. But for the 
announcement very few of them would have known it. 
The orderly was not distinguished for his piety, and it is 
not likely that the approach of Sunday v.^ould have oc- 
curred to him if the sergeant-major had not come around 
with orders from the colonel for a proper observdnce of 
the day. The colonel himself would not have thought of 
it, either, if the chaplain had not reminded him of it. 
Everybody wondered how even the chaplain could keep 
track of the days well enough to know when Sunday 
came. It was the general impression that he either carried 
an almanac in his pocket, or else a stick in which he cut a 
notch every da}^ with his jack-knife, and in that wav man- 
aged to know when a new week began. . 

The 200th Indiana had been kept particularly active on 
Sundays. Probably this regiment did not manifest any 
more than the average degree of enthusiasm and fervor in 
religious matters, but there were manv in its ranks who, 
at home, had always sat under gospel ministrations, and 



304 SI TALKS SHORTY TO SLEEP. 

to tramp on Sundays, the same as other days, was, at 
first, a riide shock to their moral sensibihties. These were 
yet keen; the edges had not been worn off and blunted 
and battered by the hard knocks of army life. True, they 
could scarcely tell when Sunday came, but they knew that 
they kept marching right along every day. 

"There'll be guard-mountin' at 9 o'clock,'' continued 
the orderly, "regimental inspection at 10, preachin' at 11, 
an' dress-parade at 5 in the evenin'. All of ye wants to 
tumble out right promp ly at revellee an' git yer break- 
fast, an' then clean up yer guns an" put all yer traps in 
apple-pie order, 'cause the colonel's goin' to look at 'em. 
He's got sharp eyes, an' I reck'n he'll be mighty pertickler. 
If there's anythingthat ain't jest right he'll see it quicker 'n 
lightnin'. Ye know we hain't had any inspections yet, an* 
the cap'n w^ants us to be the boss company. So ye've got 
to scratch around lively in the mornin." 

"Shorty," said Si, after the}' had gone to bed, "seems 
like it'll be sort o' nice ter keep Sunday agin. At the rate 
we've bin goin' on we'll all be heathens by the time we git 
home — if we ever do. Our chaplain hain't had no chance 
ter preachify yet The boys w'at knows him, says he's a 
staver, 'n' I b'lieve it'll make us all feel better ter have him 
talk to us once. 'Twon't do us no harm, nohov/. I'd like 
ter be home termorrer 'n' go to church with mother, 'n' 
sister Marier, 'n' the rest o' the folks. Then I'd jest eat 
all the arternoon. I ain't goin' ter git homesick. Shorty; 
but a feller can't help feelin' a leetle streaked once 'n a 
while. Mebbe it 's a good idee fer 'em to keep us on the 
jump, fer then we don't git no chance to think 'bout it. I 
don't s'pose I'm the onl}' boy 'n the rijiment that 'd be 
glad ter git a furlough jest fer termorrer. I sh'd want ter 
be back bright 'n' arly ter fall in Monda3miornin',fer I cal- 
kilate ter stick ter the 200th Injiannj' through thick 'n 
thin. Say, Shorty, how d'ye feel, anj^waj^?" 



THE MORNING ROLI.-CALL. 



305 



But Short}' was already fast asleep. Si spooned ujd to 
him and was soon at home in his dreams. 

The sound of bugle and drum, at daylight, fell upon un 
willing ears, for the soldiers felt the same indisposition tc 
get up early Sunday morning that is ever^^where one of 
the characteristics of modern civilization. Their beds were 
hard, but to their weary limbs no couch ever gave more 
welcome rest than did the rough ground on which they 
lay. But the wild yell of the orderly, "Turn out for roll* 
call!" with the thought of the penalties for non-obedience 
— which some of them 
had abundant reason 
to remember — quicklj' 
brought out the lag- 
gards. 

Si and Shorty were, as 
usual, among the first 
to take their places in 
line. They were pleas- 
antl}^ greeted by the '■ 
captain, who had come 
out on the run at the 
last moment, and wrig- 
gled himself into his 
coat as he strode along 
the company street. 
The captain did not^ 
very often appear at 
morning roll-call. Only one officer of the company 
was required to be present, and the captain generally 
loaded this duty upon the lieutenants, "turn about." If 
he did show up, he would go back to bed and snooze for 
an hour while the cook was getting breakfast. If one of 
the men did that, he would soon be promenading with a 
rail on his shoulder or standing on a barrel with a stick or 
a bayonet tied in his movith. 




THE CAPTAIN AT EARLY ROLL-CALL. 



>0J 



MOUNTING THE GUARD. 



"I think that's a fust rate notion ter mount the guards," 
said Si to Shorty, as they sat on a rail by the fire making 
eoffee and frying bacon. "It'll be so much better 'nwalkin' 
back 'n' forrard on the beats. Wonder 'f they'll give us 
hosses or mules to ride." 

"I'd like ter know what put that idee into yer head?" 
said Shorty. 

" Why, didn't the ord'ly say las' night 't there 'd be 
guard- mountin' at 9 o'clock this mornin'? I s'posed 
that fer a man ter be mounted meant straddlin' a hoss 

or s'mother kind of an 
animil." 

'^ Ain't ye never goin' 
to larn nuthin'," said 
Shorty, with a laugh. 
"Guard-mountin' don't 
mean fer the men ter git 
on hosses. It's only the 
name they gives it in 
thereggelations. Dunno 
why thc}^ calls it that, 
'nless it's 'cause the 
guards has ter ' mount ' 
anybody that tries ter 
pass 'thout the counter- 
sign. But don't 3'e fool 
yer self with thinkin' 
"sir, the guard is formed." ye're goin' ter git to 

ride. We'll keep pluggin' along afoot, on guard er any- 
where else, same 's we have all the time." 

"I sh'd think they might mount the corporils, anyway,'* 
said Si. 

Thus rudely was shattered another of his bright illu 
sions. 

The whole regiment turned our to witness the ceremony 
' f guard-mounting. It was the first time the exigencies of 




PREPARING FOR INSPECTION. 807 

the campaign had permitted the 200th Indiana to do this 
in style. The adjutant was the most important personage, 
and he stood so straight that he narrowly escaped falling 
over backward. In order that he might not make a mess 
of it, he had spent half the night rehearsing the various 
commands in his tent. Thus prepared, he managed to get 
through his part quite comfortably, though the non-com- 
missioned officers and privates made awkward work of it. 

The next thing on the program for the day was the in- 
spection. The boys had been industriously engaged in 
cleaning up their muskets and accouterments, and putting 
their scanty wardrobes in presentable condition. In ar- 
ranging his knapsack for the colonel's eye, each man care- 
fully laid a clean shirt, if he had one, on the top. The 
garments that were not clean he either stowed away in 
the tent or put at the bottom of the knapsack. In this he 
was actuated by the same principle that prompts the 
thrifty farmer to jDut the biggest apples and strawberries 
at the top of his measure. 

The clothing of the regiment was already in an advanced 
stage of demoralization. It was of the "shoddy " sort, 
that a good hard wind w^ould almost blo^v to pieces. 

Corporal Klegg was anxious that not only his person 
but all his goods and chattels, should make as creditable 
an appearance as possible. He put on the best and clean- 
est garments he had, and then betook himself to fixing his 
knapsack so it would pass muster. 

"Them duds is a bad lot," he said to Short}^ casting rue- 
ful glances at the little heap of soiled and ragged clothes. 
"Purty hard to make a decent show with them things!" 

"Wait a minute," said Shorty, "an' I'll show ye a leetle 
trick." 

Taking his poncho under his arm. Shorty went to the 
rear of the camp, where the mules were feeding, and pres- 
ently returned with a bunch of ha\\ 

"What ye goin' to do with that?" asked Si. 



308 shorty's ingenious scheme. 

"You jest do 's I tell 3'e, and don't ax no questions. 
Cram some o' this hay into yer knajDsack 'n' fill ""er up, 'n' 
then put a shirt or svithin, the best ye kin find, on top, 'n' 
the colonel'll think she's full o' clothes right from the laun- 
dry. Tm goin' ter fix mine that way.'' 

"Shorty, you're a trump !" said Si approvingly. "That 
'11 be bully!" 

It required but a few minutes to carry out the plan. The 
hay was stuffed into the knapsacks, and all vagrant spears 
were carefully tucked in. Then a garment, folded so as to 
conceal its worst features, was nicely spread over the hay, 
the flaps were closed and buckled, and the young Hoosiers 
were ready for inspection. 

"S'posen the colonel sh'd take a notion to go pokin' 
down into them knapsacks," said Si ; " don't ye think it 'd 
be purty cold weather fer us ?" 

"PVaps it mout " answered Shorty; "but we've got 
ter take the chances. He's got six er seven hunderd knap- 
sacks to ""nspect, "'n' I don't b'lieve he'll stick his nose 
down into very many on 'em !" 

At the appointed time the battalion was formed and the 
inspection was gone through with in good style. The 
colonel and the field and staff officers, escorted by the cap- 
tain of each successive company, moved grandly between 
the ranks, their swords dangling around and getting 
mixed up with their legs. The soldiers stood facing inward 
like so many wooden men, with their open knapsacks lying 
upon the ground at their feet. Ihe colonel looked sharply 
right and left, stopping now and then to commend a sol- 
dier whose "traps" were in particularly good condition, 
or to "go for" another whose slouchy appearance betok- 
ened untidy habits. If a button was missing, or a shoe 
untied, his eye was keen to detect it, and a word of re- 
proof was administered to the delinquent. 

As the colonel started down the line of Company 0, Si 
watched him out of the corners of his eyes with no little 



THE COLONEL WAS TOO INQUISITIVE. 



309 



anxiety. His heart thumped as he saw him occasionally 
stoop and fumble over the contents of a knapsack, evi- 
dently to test the truth of Longfellow's declaration that 
"things are not what they seem." What if the colonel 
should go dow'n into the bowels of his knapsack! He 
shuddered at the thought. 

Si almost fainted when he saw the colonel stop in front 
of Shorty and make an examination of his fat-looking 
knapsack. Military dignity gave way when the removal 
of the single garment exposed the stuffing of hay. The 
officers burst into a laugh at the unexpected revelation, 
while the boys on either side almost exploded in their ec 
joyment of Shorty's discomfiture. 




shorty's cold day. 
"Captain," said the colonel, with as much sternness as 
he could command, "as soon as j^our company is dis- 
missed, detail a guard to take charge of this man. Give 
him a stiff turn of fatigue dut■^^ You can find something 
for him to do ; and make him work hard, if it is Sunday. 
Keep him at it till church-call, and then take him to hear 
the chaplain. He needs to be preached to. Perhaps, be- 
tween the fatigue duty and the chaplain, we can straighten 
him out.'" 



310 A CLOSE SHAVE FOR SI. 

Corporal Kleg^ heard all this, and he wished the earth 
might swallow him. "These stripes is gone this time, sure !'' 
he said to himself, as he looked at the chevrons on his arm. 
"But there's no use givin' yerself away, Si,'' he continued, 
in his mental soliloquy. "Brace up, 'n' mebbe the colonel 
'11 skip ye.'' 

Si had been badly shaken up by the colonel's episode with 
Shorty, but by a great effort he gathered himself together 
and was at his best, externally, when the colonel reached 
him, though his thoughts were in a raging condition. He 
stood as straight as a ramrod, his face was clean and rosy, 
and his general make-up was as good as could be expected 
under the circumstances. 

The colonel had always remembered Si as the soldier 
he had promoted for his gallantry. As he came up he 
greeted the corporal with a smile and a nod of recognition. 
He was evidently pleased at his tidy appearance. He cast 
a glance at the voluptuous knapsack, and Si's heart seemed 
to sink away down into his shoes. 

But the fates were kind to Si that day. The colonel 
turned to the captain and told him that Corporal Klegg 
was the model soldier of Company Q. Si was the happiest 
man in the universe at that precise moment. It was not 
on account of the compliment the colonel had paid him, 
but because his knapsack had escaped a critical examina- 
tion. 

The inspection over. Company Q marched back to its 
quarters and was dismissed. Poor Shorty was soon hard 
at work chopping wood, with a guard on duty over him. 
Si was sorry for him, and at the same time felt a glow of 
pleasure at the thought that it Vv^as not his own knapsack 
instead of Shorty's that the colonel had examined. He 
could not help feeling, too, that it was a great joke on 
Shorty to be caught in his own trap. 

Shorty took his medicine like a man, unheeding the gibes 
and jeers of his hard-hearted comrades. 



'the groves were god's first temples." 311 



The bugle sounded the call for religious services. Shorty 
was not in a frame of mind that fitted him for devout 
worship. In fact, few in the regiment had greater need of 
the regenerating influence. He had never been inside of a 
church but two or three times in his life, and he really felt 
that to be compelled to go and listen to the chaplain's ser« 
mon was the hardest part of the double punishment the 
colonel had inflict- 
ed upon him. 

The companies 
w^ere all marched 
to a wooded knoll 
just outside the 
camp. Shorty had 
the companion- 
ship of a guard 
with fixed bayo- 
net, who escorted 
him to the place 
chosen for the 
services. He was 
taken to a point 
near the chaplain, 
that he might get 
the full benefit of 
the preacher's 

words. CALLING TO REPENTANCE. 

Under the spreading trees, whose foliage was brilliani 
with the hues of autumn, in the mellow sunshine of thai. 
October day, the men seated themselves upon the ground 
to hear the gospel preached. The chaplain, in his best 
uniform, stood and prayed fervently for Divine guidance 
and protection and blessing, while the soldiers listened, 
with heads reverently bowed. Then he gave out the 
familiar hymn, 

"Am I a soldier of the cross," 




312 WAR AND RELIGION. 

and alljoinedin theold tune"Balerma," their voices swell- 
ing in mighty chorus. As they sang, 

" Are there no foes for me to face ? " 
there came to the minds of many a practical application 
of the words, in view of the long and fruitless chase after 
the rebels, in which they had been engaged. 

The chaplain had formerly been an old-fashioned Meth- 
odist circuit-rider in Indiana. He was full of fiery zeal, 
and his vivid portrayal of the horrors of future punish- 
ment ought to have had a salutary effect upon Shorty, 
but it is greatly to be feared that he steeled his stubborn 
heart against all that the chaplain said. 

It was difficult not to feel that there was something 
contradictory and anomalous about religious services in 
the army. Brutal, hideous war, and all its attendant cir- 
cumstances, seemed so utterly at variance with the princi- 
ples of the Bible and the teachings of Him who was meek 
and lowly, that few of the soldiers had philosophy enough 
to reconcile them. 

The men spent the afternoon in reading what few stray 
books and fugitive newspapers there were in camp, mend- 
ing their clothes, sleeping, and some of them, it is painful 
to add, in playing euchre and old sledge. Dress parade 
closed the day that had brought welcome rest to the way- 
worn soldiers. 

"Shorty," said Si, after they had gone to bed that night, 
'Tsh'd be mighty sorry if 7 'c/ ha' go tup that knapsack trick 
this mornin', 'cause you got left on it so bad." 

"There's a good many things," replied Shorty, "that's 
all right when ye don't git ketched. It worked tip-top 
with you. Si, 'n' I'm glad of it. But I put ye up to it, 'n' I 
shouldn't never got over it ef the colonel had caught 3^e, on 
'count o' them stripes on yer arm. He'd ha' snatched 
'em mity quick, sure's yer born. You're my pard, 'n' I'm 
jest as proud of 'em as you be yerself. I'm only a privit', 
'n' they can't rejuce me any lower! 'Sides, I 'lov/ \i 



PUNISHMENTS IN THE ARMY. ' 313 

sarved me right, 'n* I don't keer so 1 didn't git you inter 
no scrape." 

The forms of punishment in the army were many and 
unique. Some of them were grotesque and ridiculous in 
the extreme— particularly those for minor offenses, which 
came within" the discretion of regimental and company 
commanders. Commissioned officers could only be pun- 
ished by the sentence of a court-martial. They could not 
be "reduced" in rank. Reprimand and forfeiture of pay 
were common penalties for the milder forms of their tres- 
passes and sins. In flagrant cases the usual punishment 
was "cashiering" or "dishonorable discharge, "often with 
forfeiture of all pay and allowances due the officer. For 
desertion, sleeping on post, and all the graver offenses, 
non-commissioned officers and privates were also tried by 
court-martial. Only in extreme cases was the death pen- 
alty imposed. The most common punishments were re- 
duction to the ranks — in the cases of non-commissioned 
officers— loss of pay, confinement in military prison, hard 
labor with ball and chain at the ankle, shaving the head 
and "drumming out of camp" — sometimes with a perma- 
nent decoration in the shape of a brand on the hip. 

For minor infractions of discipline, often committed 
through ignorance and without wrong intent, there was 
no limit to the variety of penalties suggested by the whims 
and caprices of colonels and captains and even orderly 
sergeants. In many cases they appeared unreasonable, in 
view of the trifling character of the offenses. The "guard- 
house" was a retributive institution that existed every- 
where. At permanent stations this was usually a building 
of some kind, which was made to serve the purposes of a 
jail. In the field it was often a tent — perhaps onl}' a fence- 
corner. Wherever the headquarters of the camp-guard 
were fixed, there was the "guard-house. ' ' Often just before 
going int ) action prisoners were released and sent to their 



314- 



SOME CORRECTIVE MEASURES 



companies. If they behaved well in battle it served as an 
atonement for their transgressions. 

The "buck and gag" was a severe corporeal punishment- 
The "bucking" -was done by securely tying the wrists, 
seating the culprit on the ground and placing the arms 




h il;e y^oc\y 



3:.cKci J^5^ <A^iS^"^' 



THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR. 

over the knees, which were drawn up close to the body 
and then thrusting a stout stick— frequently a musket- 
through under the knees and over the arms at the elbow. 
It is impossible to imagine a more utterly helpless condi 
tion in which a man can be placed. The "gag" was a 
piece of v/ood, or more often a bayonet, pushed as far 



SEVERE AND OT ITER WISE. 315 

back as possible between the open jaws and fastened with 
a cord on either side of the face, tied at the back of the 
neck. To be kept in this position for two hours was ex- 
tremely jDainful. Frequently, instead of being "bucked," 
the offender was "tied up by the thumbs" to the side 
of a building or the limb of a tree, the arms being stretched 
upward by cords fastened around the thumbs, the cub 
prit's heels just reaching the ground. The "gag" ^vasusu- 
ally applied in addition. This position was also very pain- 
ful, and the thumbs often became black and swollen. 
Sometimes a man was tied by the wrists tc the tail-board 
of a wagon during a day's march. 

The "knapsack drill " and carrying a rail upon the shoul- 
der, which w^ere very common, have entered into the dis- 
ciplinary experience of Si Klegg. In the milder class of 
punishments were: promenading the camp with a headless 
barrel around the body, suspended by cords from the neck; 
sitting for a stated period "straddle" of a horizontal pole, 
five or six feet from the ground ; standing for hours, like a 
statue, on a barrel; confinement in the "stocks," and many 
others. Extra fatigue duty — for hours or days, gauged 
by the enormity of the offense — was universally in vogue 
as a corrective measure. 

It would have been strange if the army did not contain 
many who were turbulent, lawless and insubordinate. 
Some were an absolute injury to the service, fomenters of 
disturbance, and corrupting and demoralizing in their 
influence. These were the ones who were dishonorably 
discharged and drummed out of camp to the tune of the 
"Rogue's March." In manycasesseverepunishmentswere 
necessary, but it is true, on the other hand, that they were 
sometimes barbarously cruel. Authority to prescribe and 
enforce penalties at will is a dangerous power. It was 
conferred, by virtue of military rank, upon some whose 
lack of iudgment and of the " quality of mercy " should have 
disqualified them for official position. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

Ix Which Si's Temper and Muscles are Sorely Tried, and He 
Narrowly Escapes Getting into Trouble. 

i i 'np'HE cap'n says we've got a mighty hard road to 
J^ travel to-day," said the orderly of Company Q 
one morning. "Our company 's detailed to march with 
the wagons 'n' help 'era along. I reck'n the mules '11 have 
more 'n they can manage, 'n' we've got to give 'em a lift 
when they need it." 

There seemed to be no limit to the physical possibilities 
of the soldiers. Leaving bullet and shell and bayonet out 
of the account, the successful manner in which men w^ith- 
Btood the tests of endurance to which they were subjected 
was simply marvelous. Excessive and long protracted ex- 
ertion, exposure and hunger destroyed the lives of many- 
thousands, but other thousands are today illustrations 
of what a man may pass through and yet live. It is often 
said that those were "the times that tried men's souls," 
but a cloud of witnesses w^ill sustain the additional state- 
ment that they tried men's bodies as well. Indeed, to 
those who marched so many v^reary miles, the familiar 
quotation would seem more applicable if the last word 
were spelled "soles." 

It was often demonstrated that men could endure more 
than horses, or even mules. On those long and arduous 
marches, day and night, through cold and storm, with but 
scant rations, the soldiers plodded along, patiently and 
even cheerfully, while the animals lay down by the road- 

316 



COMPANY (^ TO HELP THE MULES. 317 

side with their heels in the air, and forever ceased from their 
labors. So it was that when supplies ran short the horses 
and mules were first looked after. A cavalryman was 
always expected to have his horse fed and cared for, 
"whether he got anything himself or not. When there was 
a job of hauling that was too heavy for the mules, the 
men w^ere called to their assistance, and this never failed 
of the desired result. 

"That '11 be jest fun, to march with the waggins," said 
Corporal Klegg to Shorty, as they were getting their 
breakfast. "We'll pile our knapsacks 'n' things on 'n' 
make the mules haul 'em, 'n' v^e'll have a picnic." 

"Don't be too sure o' that," replied Shorty. "Better 
wait t'll night 'n' see how ye feel by that time. I guess ye 
won't be quite so frisky as ye ar' this mornin'. I've got a 
notion how it'll be today, 'n' my advice is to fill yerself 
up with grub, 'cause ye'll need it 'fore ye git through." 

It was not necessary to tell Si to do this, because he 
always did it. He ate all of his own rations, and when- 
ever a man got sick Si would immediately enter into nego- 
tiations for his hardtack and bacon. 

After the usual amount of scrambling and yelling the 
■wagons were loaded and the men were in line ready for the 
road. The 200th Indiana stepped off at a lively gait, in 
the fresh morning air, the band playing "John Brown's 
Body," "Red, White and Blue," and other tunes calcu- 
lated to stimulate the flagging zeal of such as -were getting 
faint at heart and weak in the knees. 

But few of the new regiments were permitted to have 
brass bands. The 200th had, however, been made an ex- 
ception. In view of the glorious career that was antici- 
pated for it, this congregation of patriots started on its 
travels with a large and well-equipped band of blowers. 
The veteran regiments had found that bands were a luxu- 
rious superfluity. Every company soon developed men 



318 THE BRASS BAND, 

who were so gifted in the art of "blowing " that there was 
Httle need for brass horns. 

It is true tliat music had charms for the soldier. In the 
early days of the war, when the head of a regiment entered 
a straggling town and the band struck up a liveh^air, the 
effect was magical. Bent backs involuntarily straightened 
up, arms were brought to a "right-shoulder-shift," strag- 
glers fell into their places, every soldier caught the step, 
aches and blisters were for the moment forgotten, and the 
column went swinging along under the inspiration of the 
martial strains. Every old infantryman will remember 
how it gladdened his heart and seemed to lighten his load 
when he heard the band play. Nor can he forget how, at 
night, when quiet had settled down upon the bivouac, his 
very fingers and toes tingled, as the strains of "The Bowld 
Soger Boy," or "The Girl I Left Behind Me," fell upon his 
ear; nor how the tears flowed unbidden down his tanned 
and roughened cheeks, as the tender melody of "Annie 
Laurie" or "Home, Sweet Home" floated through the 
evening air and came to him like a blessed benediction. 

But the bands (Jid not last long. The horn-blowers, as 
a class, were not "stayers." They appeared to use up all 
their wind in blowing, and didn't have any left for march- 
ing. Like most of the non-combatants, they got all their 
traps carried on the wagons, had no guard, picket, fatigue 
or other duty to perform, and were popularly believed to 
have a "soft thing," but they always made more fuss than 
auA^body else. They thought they ought to have carriages 
to ride in. and restaurants on wheels to supply them with 
food. 

Up to this time the band of the 200th had held its owm 
pretty well. An occasional colic or other ailment had 
created a temporary vacancy, but those who were left 
blew all the louder, and the vacuum caused by the absence 
of a horn or two was not noticed in the general racket. 
But it was not long till the band that was the pride of 



AND ITS UNTIMELY END. 319 

those roving Hoosiers shared the fate of all the rest. The 
B-flat bass took an overdose of green corn, went to the 
hosj)ital, and his horn was heard no more. The E-flat 
cornet proved to be a "tenderfoot," and after hobbling 
along on his blisters for a few days, he gave it up and quit. 
The clarionet player gradually weakened and finally went 
to the rear, without anything the matter, on the face of 
the returns, except that his "sand" had run out. The 
piccoloist knew when he had got enough and deserted. A 
wagon wheel ran over the trombone and reduced it to a 
chaotic wreck. The man who rattled the snare drum was 
taken in "out of the wet " by some rebel troopers while he 
was eating pie at a house a mile away from camp. Other 
casualties followed, and there were not enough musicians 
to play an intelligible tune. 

In fact, there wasn't much left of the band but the drum- 
major. He continued to strut in the full effulgence of his 
glory. But he looked like a hen wandering about the 
barn-yard with two or three forlorn little chicks — all of her 
brood that had escaped the ravages of rats and the "pip." 
So at last the drum-major and the survivors of the band 
were sent back a,nd mustered out, and the 200th saw them 
no more. 

But during this autopsy on the late lamented brass band 
of the 200th Indiana, the regiment is stumbling along the 
stretch of bad road, and Company Q has entered upon the 
active duties of the day. Si Klegg is in the enjoyment of the 
"picnic " he told Shorty they would have. 

Soon after leaving camp the column filed off the pike and 
struck into one of those barbarous country roads or trails 
that are so common in the South. The}' do not seem to 
begin or end anywhere in particular. Often the devious 
course runs through woods and swamps and over rough 
hills, the path filled with ruts and obstructed by logs and 
stumps and stones. 

"What sort o' road 's this ? " asked Si of a woman who 



320 WITH THE WAGON TRAIN. 

Stood swabbing her mouth withsnuff at a squatter's cabin 
by the wayside. 

"Wall, it's fa'r to middlin'," was the reply. " Ye'veseen 
better 'n' I reck'n ye've seen wuss. I 'low ye kin git 
through, but it'll take a powerful sight o' pullin' in spots." 

This diagnosis proved to be correct. The soldiers man- 
aged to "git through" because they alwaj^s did that, but 
the "powerful sight o' pullin'" was an important and 
prominent factor in the operation. 

Company Q was distributed along the regimental train, 
eight or ten men to each wagon. When oneof the wagons 
"stuck," the men took hold of the wheels, the teamster 
cracked his whip with extra force, and threw additional 
vehemence and fervor into his exhortations to the strain- 
ing, panting mules. If all this failed to produce the desired 
effect, there was a general muster of reinforcements. Axes, 
levers, ropes and other appliances were brought into requi- 
sition, and the combined efforts of men and mules, with 
much prying and lifting and ^'elling, were generally suc- 
cessful. The yelling was considered especially valuable as 
an accessory. The greater the tug the louder everybody 
yelled. The shouts and exclamatory words were chiefly 
addressed to the mules. Those \yho were not within con- 
venient earshot of the team went in on general principles 
and did their "level best" to swell the din. 

Corporal Klegg, with a squad of inen which, of course, 
included Shorty, accompanied the headquarters' wagon, 
containing the colonel's outfit. Si, by reason of his rank, 
was in charge, and determined to spare no effort to bring 
the colonel's wagon through in good shape, whatever 
might be the fate of the others. The team was one of the 
best in the train ; the muleteer was an artist in his profes- 
sion, singularly gifted in language ; and for a time all went 
well. A lift and a yell now and then sufficed to keep the 
wagon moving most of the time. 

The soldiers always yelled on the slightest provocation. 



THE AltMY YELL. 321 

Day or night, in camp or on the march, they exercised 
their lungs whenever anything gave them an excuse lor 
doing so. If a favorite general came in sight he recei\e(l ;.. 
boisterous greeting; if a frightened "cotton-tail" rabbit 
started up it was enough to set a whole division yelling. 
One of those mighty choruses would sweep in a tumul- 
Ituous wave for miles through a great camp or along a 
marching column, when not one man in ten had any idea 
what he was yelling at or about. It was violently conta- 
gious, and one regiment or brigade yelled just because 
its neighbor did. No great undertaking that required 
united physical effort was accomplished without the inev- 
itable yell. The men yelled when the bugle sounded for a 
rest from the toilsome march, and when the head of 
column filed off the road betokening the end of the day's 
tramp; they yelled at the sutler, the commissary, the 
quartermaster and the paymaster; they yelled with equal 
ardor at the sight of a pig, a chicken or a w^oman — for 
there were times when a v^oman's face was not seen for 
weeks. 

Si and Shorty chattered as they trudged along, occa- 
sionally giving their backs and shoulders a rest by hang- 
ing their knapsacks on behind, or underneath, where the 
teamster could not see them, and sliding their muskets in 
among the baggage and tent poles that filled the w^agon 
to the very roof of the canvas. Once, when stopping for a 
brief rest, the teamster dismounted and went to the rear 
of his vehicle. This was prompted by seeing the men com- 
fortably walking without their customary burdens. Waiv- 
ing all ceremony, he quickly jerked the knapsacks from 
their fastenings and flung them on the ground. These 
were followed a moment later by the guns, which he drew 
from their places of concealment. 

"Ye ought ter be 'shamed o' yerselves, ye lazy lubbers," 
he said. " There's every pound on that w^aggin that them 
'ere mules kin pull. You fellers gits paid fer carryin' them 



322 STUCK IN THE MUD. 

knapsacks 'n' guns, 'n' ye've got to arn yer money. Ef 1 
cotch ye pnttin' 'em on the waggin I'll report ye to the 
colonel. Ye knows it's agin orders." 

"S'posen you puts on my traps 'n' carries 'em awhile, 
'n' see how ye like it, while I ride yer mule!" said Si, who 
was inclined to be a little spunky about it, and for the 
moment forgot that he was a corporal. 

"Ye'd better be a little keerful," said the teamster, "er 
ye'll git them stripes snatched off 'n yer arms. You hear 
me!" 

Si knew that the mule-driver had the best of the argu- 
ment, and thought it wise not to continue the debate. He 
told the men to sling their knapsacks and shoulder their 
guns, and the procession again moved forward. But the 
boys soon had their knapsacks hanging on the wagon 
again, being careful to snatch them off whenever the team 
stopped. 

Trouble came at length. They reached a slough where 
the mules sank to their knees and the wheels went down 
to the hubs. The driver yelled and cracked his whip, but 
all to no purpose. The wagon was immovable. After 
each repeated effort it was only more hopelessly bemired. 
A council of war was held, and it was decided that the 
only way was to unload. Half the members of the com- 
pany were summoned to their assistance. 

There was no alternative, and the men plunged into the 
mud. Five or six climbed upon the wagon, threw off the 
cover, and passed down tents, baggage, and all the par- 
aphernalia of the colonel's "mess." The men carried 
them, splashing through mud and water, to solid ground 
ahead, where they would have to be reloaded. 

Si stood with his hands in his pockets, with the evident 
intention of confining his efforts to "bossing" the job. 
The w^agonmaster, mounted on a mule, came galloping up 
to see what the trouble was all about. He was bustling 



SI S PROTEST OVERRULED. 



323 



and fussy, like all wagonmasters, and made a great deal 
of unnecessary noise. 

"What ye standin' there for, like a bump on a log? " he 
said to Si. "Why don't yetake hold and do something? " 

"Sir, I'm acorporil!" said Si. 

"Wall, that don't make no difference. You jest wade in 
an' help unload that wagon, or yon won't be a corporal 
any longer 'n tomorrow." 

The man on the mule appeared to be master of the situa- 
tion, and Si reluctantly 
obeyed the order. 

" Thought ye'd have 
to come to it," said 
Shorty, as Si took one 
corner of the colonel's 
mess -chest, and went 
half way to his knees 
in the mud. 

As soon as it was 
empty the w^agon was 
pried up and the mules 
succeeded in getting it 
upon terra £rma. Then 
it was reloaded and 
started again upon its 
windingway. Thetired 
and bespattered men "siR. i am a corporil!" 

slung knapsacks, shouldered muskets, and plodded on. 

In some places the way was very stouA^ and uneven. 
More than once the wagon was only kept from overturn- 
ing by the efforts of those on the upper side of the road 
with ropes fastened to the bows. There was much 
tugging and lifting, and the men became thoroughly 
"blown.'' 

At length a steep and rugged hill was reached. A glance 
was enough to show that the mules, unaided, could n<^t 




324 THE TUG OF WAR. 

pull Up the load, and that a combination of all the physical 
forces at hand would be necessary. 

The whole of Company was ordered to the scene of 
action. The men stacked arms and stripped off their ac- 
couterments. A stout rope, big enough to anchor a ship, 
which had been provided for such an emergency, was 
fastened in the middle to the pole of the wagon, and run 
out ahead in two lines a hundred feet long. 

"Everyman to the ropes!" shouted the wagonmaster. 

Corporal Klegg looked despairingly at his chevrons, as 
if he thought they ought to protect him from such indig- 
nities. 

"I didn't 'list fer a mule !" he growled to Shorty, as they 
took their places at the rope. 

The men stretched away up the hill, like the volunteer 
firemen of a generation ago hauling their "masheen" to a 
fire. Those who were unable to find room at the ropes 
swarmed around the wagon, some at the tail-board and 
others at the wheels, ready to lift and push when the word 
was given. A few, who had not rushed v^ith alacrity to 
the various posts of duty, were left out, and they rather 
seemed to be glad of it. These stationed themselves at 
convenient points to yell at the mules, this department of 
especial usefulness being still unoccupied. 

"Are you ready ? Now, all together — Git ! '' shouted the 
wagonmaster. 

Company 0, as one man, set up a wild, unearthly yell 
and braced for the tug. Like a fusillade of pistol-shots, the 
teamster cracked his whip as he touched up alternately the 
"leaders" and "swings," at the same time plunging his 
long spurs into the reeking sides of the saddle "wheeler," 
while from somewhere in his interior there came forth a 
series of piercing whoops that would have done credit to 
a Comanche warrior. The captain of the company pranced 
uo and down the hill, cleaving the air with his sword, and 
Screaming to the men to remember their suffering country. 



BUT THE WAGON WENT UP. 



325 



Hd jor.fiJentially informed the first lieutenant that if he 
should accidentally get in range of a mule's heels during 
Ihe engagement, he wanted to be wrapped in the old flag 
^nd buried where he fell. 

it would have been strange if such a union of vocal and 
muscular forces did not yield immediate results. The 
wagon went up that hill almost as quickly as if it had 
been shot out of a mortar. When the summit was reached 
and the laurels of victory, as it were, crowned the perspir- 
ing brow of Company Q, there went up one tremendous 
shout of triumph. 




"now, all together!" 

"Now for the next one ! " said the wagonmaster. ** That 
was well done, an' we'll snake 'em all up in jest no time." 

The boys hadn't thought of the other wagons to be 
pulled up, and their hearts sank within them at the pros- 
pect. But in an hour or so the work was done. Each 
wagon was "yanked'' up by the tugging and yelling pro- 
cess already described. The teams had, however, an ob- 
vious advantage over the men. Each of them had to pull 
up but once, while the men had to apply their energies a 
dozen times. Si Klegg noticed this odious discrimination, 



326 WRECK OF THE COLONEL'S OUTFIT. 

and it led liim to remark to Short}' that on the whole he 
believed he'd rather be a mule than a soldier. 

Once the experiment of doubling teams was tried, and 
twelve mules were strung out ahead of the w^agon. But 
they proved unmanageable, plunging and kicking and tang- 
ling themselves into a knot, to untie which required the 
combined ingenuity of half a dozen talented teamsters. 

By the time the last wagon was at the top the men were 
thoroughly "tuckered out, " as they expressed it. The day 
was warm, and perspiration streamed from their bodies. 
But there had already been so much delay that there was 
no time to be lost. Slinging their loads upon their aching 
backs they started on. 

Soon the road led down the other side of the ridge. The 
descent was so steep that it was not considered safe to 
trust to the brakes, and the former operation was reversed. 
The rope was fastened to the rear of each wagon, and the 
men applied their muscles to the work of retarding its 
speed. They went dragging, slipping and skating along 
on their gambrels as the wagon pulled them to the bottom. 
It was, if possible, worse than the getting-up process. 

A dire calamity befell the colonel's wagon. Near the 
foot of the hill one forward wheel went into a rut and the 
other struck a stone, and the effect was instantaneous. 
The wagon toppled for an instant, balancmg on two wheels, 
and then, before aid could reach it, went over with a 
mighty crash. The cover and bows were dashed away 
like straws, and there was a general spill of the load. The 
colonel's mess-chest, and sundry bags and boxes containing 
his table supj^lies, were broken open and their tempting 
contents exposed to the gloatingeyes of the soldiers. There 
were cans of preserved fruit, and vegetables, and pickles, 
and lobster, the sight of which drove the boys half crazy. 
There were also some dark looking bottles, but what was 
contained therein can only be conjectured. It was not 
possible to withstand such a temptation. The soldiers fur* 



STOMACH AGAINST COXSCIEiNCE 



327 



tively snatched up these things and stowed them into their 
haversacks. 

Si hesitated a moment, while a brief argument was going 
on between his conscience and his stomach. The latter 
prevailed, and he went in for his share of the spoils of war. 

"Guess we'll have that picnic, arter all!" he said to 
Shorty, stuffing a box of sardines into his breeches pocket. 

By the time the captain — who had stayed at the top of 
the hill to superintend operations — reached the wreck, all 
the loose edibles had 
disappeared, and the 
men were busily en- 
gaged in clearing away 
the debris, preparatory 
to righting and reload- 
ing the vehicle. This 
was accomplished in 
due time, and the 
wagon finally reached 
the end of the day's 
journey without fur- 
ther mishap. 

By this time it was 
nearly dark. The 
colonel had long been 
waiting for his supper, "looting" the colonel's mess-chest. 
and was in a famishing condition. Rumors of the disaster 
to the wagon had reached him, but the possibility of araid 
on his commissary department did not for a moment enter 
his imagination. 

There was a sudden and alarming rise in the temperature 
around headquarters when the w^agon was unloaded. If 
the weather bureau had been in operation then and there, 
it would have displayed the storm flag over the territory 
occupied by Company 0, warning its members to look out 
for an immediate tornado, of tmusual violence. 




328 THE STORM-CENTER. 

"Adjutant!" thundered the colonel, "have Company 
Q formed at once, with haversacks and knapsacks, and 
march 'em to headquarters, promptly. Do not delay an 
instant!" 

Shorty, half expecting something of this nature, had been 
smart enough to loiter about the colonel's quarters to see 
what shape things would take. He hurried back to the 
company and told Si to "get shut" of his plunder as quick 
as possible. 

"There's goin' ter be the biggest row ye ever seen!" he 
said. 

Si and Shorty hastily took out of their haversacks and 
pockets the fruits of their pillage. Their first impulse was 
to put them into some other fellow's haversack. They 
agreed, however, that this would be too mean a thing, and 
they hurriedly hid them under a log. 

They were not a moment too soon, for the order, "Fall 
in. Company Q," was already being shouted by the orderly. 
The company was marched to headquarters where the 
colonel ordered every one to be searched, himself giving 
personal attention to the operation. The net result was 
a miscellaneous heap of cans and bottles and boxes taken 
from the persons of half the men in the company, 

"Ah! Corporal Klegg, I'm glad that none of this stuff 
was found on you!'' said the colonel to his "model soldier," 
in whose faithful and efficient performance of duty he felt 
such a kindly interest. "I shall not forget you, sir." 

Si's face became as red as a boiled beet, but it was grow- 
ing dusk, and if the colonel noticed it at all he doubtless 
imagined it to be the blush of pride at being again so con- 
spicuously commended. Si didn't say anything. 

Details from Company Q did all the hard, extra duty of 
the regiment for a week. Thus was the colonel's wrath 
appeased. 

Si's conscience smote him that night, and he wanted to 



r II 



"all's well that ends well." 



329 



carry the plunder and put it where the coloners cook 

would find it in the morning, but Shorty said there was no 

danger of their being 

found out now, and 

they might as well 

eat it up. So they 

went off among the 

trees and had their 

"picnic." 

"Si," said Shorty, 
as he took a mouth- 
ful of canned lob- 
ster, "it's jest 's I've 
told ye before ; these 
things ain't so bad 
as they seem, per- 
vidin' ye don't git 
ketched. Do ye know 
whar the colonel got 
them things?" 

" No ; I s'pose he 
bought 'em, didn't 
he ? " said Si, inno- 
cently. 

"Nary-t/me/" was ^ nocturnal picnic. 

the reply. "The sutler guv 'cm to him fer the priv'lege 
o' skinnin' us boys I" 




CHAPTER XXV. 

Si Goes Marching on Amidst Rain and Snow, and has His Patriot- 
ism Severely Taxed. 

NIGHT had cast her mantle over the camp of the 200th 
Indiana. The details for guard and picket had 
been made. Videttes, with sleepless eye and listening ear, 
kept watch and ward on the outposts, while faithful sen- 
tries trod their beats around the great encampment. All 
day the army had marched, and was to take the road 
again at an early hour in the morning. Supper had been 
eaten, and the tired soldiers were gathered around the 
campfires that glimmered far and near through the dark- 
ness. 

For two or three weeks, since the pursuit of the rebels 
was abandoned, the army had been aimlessly drifting 
about, marching and camping a few days by turns, 
evidently looking for a place to come to anchor until the 
next campaign. 

"Si,'' said Shorty to his chum, as they sat on a log be- 
side the dying embers, "how^ dye like soldierin', as fur as 
ye've got?" 

"It's purty hard business," said Si, reflectively, "an' I 
s'pose we hain't seen the w^orst on it yet, either, from what 
I've heern tell. Pity the men that got up this 'ere war 
can't be made ter do all the trampin' 'n' fitin'. An' them 
fellers up in old Injianny that come 'round niakin' sich 
red-hot speeches ter git us boys ter 'list, wouldn't it be fun 
ter see them a-humpin' 'long with gun 'n' knapsack, 'n' 

330 



A GOOD SLEEP IN PROSPECT. 331 

chawin' hardtack, 'n' stan'in' guard nights, 'n' pourin' 
water on their bHsters, 'n'pickin'graybacks oflf their shirts, 
'n' p'leecin' camp, 'n' washin' their own clothes? " 

"I think we'd enj'y seein' em' do all that," said Shorty, 
laughing at the picture Si had drawn. "I reck'n most on 
'em 'd peter out purty quick, and I'd like ter hear what 
sort o' speeches they'd make then. I tell ye, Si, there's a 
a big diff 'runce 'tween goin' yerselfan' tellin' some other 
feller to go." 

"Mebbe they'll git ter graftin' arter a while," observed 
Si, " 'n' if they do, I hope that'll ketch 'em ! " 

"Wall, we're in fer it, anyway," said Shorty. "Let's 
make dow^n the bed 'n' turn in ! " 

It did not take long to complete the arrangements for 
the night. They spread their "gum " blankets, or ponchos, 
on the ground, within the tent, and on these their wool 
blankets, placed their knapsacks at the head for pillows, 
and that was all. It was warmer than usual that evening, 
and they stripped down to their nether garments. 

"Feels good once 'n a while," said Si, "to peel a feller's 
clothes off, 'n' sleep in a Christian-like way. But Great 
Scott! Short}'-, ain't this ground lumpy ? It's like lyin' on 
a big wash-board. I scooted all over the country huntin' 
fer straw to-night. There wasn't but one little stack 
within a mile o' camp. Them durned Missouri chaps gob- 
bled every smidgin of it. They didn't leave 'nuff ter 
make a hummin'-bird's nest. The 200th Injianny '11 git 
even with 'em some day."" 

Si and Shorty crept in between the blankets, drew the 
top one up to their chins, and adjusted their bodily protu- 
berances as best they could to fit the ridges and hollows 
beneath them. 

"Now, Si," said Short}-, "don't 3^e git to fitin' rebels in 
yer sleep and kick the kiver off, 's ye did last night ! '' 

As they lay there their ears caught the music of the bu- 
gles sounding "lights out,'' or "taps." Far and near 



832 A CYCLONIC DISTURBANCE. 

floated through the clear night air the famihar melody that 
warned every soldier not on duty to go to bed. Next to 
the 200th Indiana lav a regiment of wild Michigan veter- 
ans, who struck up the words, following the strains of the 
bugles. 

During the night 
there came one 

of those sudden g^y, oh Dutcliy, wm ye fight mit Si -gel? 

storms that seemed . 

rd=j: — »- 




m^m 



-^^i\ 



to be sent by an izzij ' i|'^zzii^zi]=i]: 

inscrutable PrOVl- Zwel glass o' hi - ger. Yaw! Yair.'.' Yaw!!! 

dence especially to , , . ..^ , , 

give variety to the gi=iiz=i!'^ziiz=i^zii^:^^[;jzz;^zz:l!Lz::j: 

soldier's life. A well- wm ye flght to help cle bul-ly ea-gle? 

developed cyclone 



struck the camp, ^ — , ^ — v-i ^'^ ^ ^ j^ *T^~jj 

and Si and Shorty ^ ^ ^ ^ 



Schweitzer-kase und pret-zels,HurrawI— raw/ bawI 



GO TO BED. 



were soon awak- 
ened by the racket. 
The wind was blowing and whirling in fierce gusts, wrench- 
ing out the tent-pins or snapping the ropes as if they were 
threads. Ever}' where was heard the flapping of canvas, and 
the yells and shouts of the men as they dashed about in the 
darkness and confusion. Many of the tents were already 
prostrate, and their demoralized inmates were crawling out 
from under the ruin. To crown all, the rain began to fall 
in torrents. The camp was a vast pandemonium. The 
blackest darkness prevailed, save when the scene was illu- 
mined by flashes of lightning. These were followed by 
peals of thunder that made the stoutest quake. 

Si jumped at the first alarm. "Git up here, you fellers ! " 
he shouted. "We'd better go outside and grab the ropes, 
er the hull shebang '11 go over! " 

There was not a moment to spare. Si dashed out into 
the storm and darkness, followed by his comrades. Seiz- 
ing the ropes, some of which were already loosened, they 



battij:<g with the elements. 



333 



"braced themselves and hung on for dear life, in the drench- 
ing rain, their hair and garments streaming in the wind. 

Their prompt action saved the tent from the general 
wreck. The fury of the storm soon abated, and Si and 
his comrades, after driving the pins and securing the ropes, 
re-entered the tent, wet and shivering — for the mercury had 
gone down with a tumble, or rather it would have done so 
had they been supplied with thermometers. But their 
scanty costume afforded a weather indicator suffici- 
ently accurate for 
all practical pur- 
poses. 

The ground was 
flooded, and their 
blankets and gar- 
ments were fast 
absorbing the 
-u'ater that flowed 
around in such an 
aggravating way. 
Sleep under such 
conditions was 
out of the ques- 
tion. Thebo\'sput 
on their clothes 
and tried to make 
the best of their 
sorry plight. a cyclone in camp. 

By this time the rain had nearl^^ ceased. Fortunately, 
they had laid in a good stock of fuel in the evening, and 
after a little patient effort they succeeded in getting a fire 
started. Around this they hovered, alternateh' warming 
their calves and shins. 

"This is a leetle more 'n I barg'ined fer," said Si. Then, 
taking a philosophical view of the case, he added, "But 
there's one good thing about it, Shorty, we'll be all fixed 




S34 A DISMAL DAY. 

fer mornin', 'n' we won't have ter git up when they sound 
the revellee. The buglers kin jest bust theirselves a-blow- 
in' fer all I keer! " 

In this way the soldiers spent the remainder of the night. 
Before daybreak the blast of a hundred bugles rang out, 
but there was little need for the reveille. 

In the gray dawn of that murky morning the long column 
went trailing on its way. The weather gave promise of a 
sloppy day. and the indications were fully verified. A driz- 
zling rain set in and continued without cessation. The 
boys put their heads through the holes in their ponchos, 
from the corners of \vhich the ^vater streamed. With their 
muskets at a "secure" they splashed along through the 
mud, hour after hour. In spite of their "gums," the Avater 
found its way in at the back of the neck and trickled dov^^n 
their bodies. Their clothes became saturated, and they 
were: altogether about as miserable as it is possible for 
mortals to be. 

It seemed to Si that the maximum of discomfort had 
been reached. He had experienced one thing after another 
during the few weeks since he left home, and he thought 
each in turn was worse than the last, and about as bad as 
it could be. But he learned a good deal more before he 
graduated. 

All through the long, dreary day the soldiers plodded on. 
There was little comfort to be derived from the "rests," 
for the ground was soaked with water. 

"Why didn't we think of it. Shorty,'' said Si, "'n' make 
it part o' the barg'in when we 'listed that we \vas ter have 
umbrellers. These gum things don't 'mount ter shucks, 
nohow, ter keep the rain off. Ish'd think Uncle Sam might 
do that much fer us ! " 

"I reckon our clothes '11 be purty v^ell v^ashed by the 
time we git out o' this mess," said Shorty. 

"Feels that way," said Si; "but how about the bilin'?" 

It was nearly night when the 200th, dripping and dis- 



TAKING THE "TOP RAIL.*' 



335 



couraged, turned into a field of standing corn to pass the 
night. The men sank to their shoe-tops in the soft earth. 
Si remarked to Shorty that he didn't see why the officers 
should turn them loose in such a place as that. But the 
longer he lived the more he found out about those things. 
That was the way they usually did. 

In five minutes after arms were stacked not a cornstalk 
remained standing in the field. During the afternoon the 
troops had gone over a long stretch of swamp road that 
was almost im- 
passable for teams. 
Fears were enter- 
tained that the 
wagons of the regi- 
ment would not be 
up that night, and 
they would not 
have their tents to 
shelter them from 
the weather. In an- 
ticipation of such 
a calamity the 
boys gathered in 
the cornstalks, be- 
lieving that they 
would help out in 
their extremity. 

Then there was 
a scramble for the fences, 
fuel, an order from the 




GOING FOR THE "TOP RAIL 



Recognizing the need of good 
general was filtered through 



the various headquarters that the men might take the 
top rails, only, from the fence enclosing the field. This 
order w^as literally interpreted and carried out, each 
man, successively, taking the "top rail" as he found it. 
The very speedy result was that the bottom rails became 



336 



A SEVERE TEST OF TEMPER. 



the "top," and then there weren't any. Ahnost in the 
twinkling of an eye the entire fence disappeared. 

The drizzle continued through the evening, and by the 
sputtering fires the soldiers prepared and ate their frugal 
suppers. 

Si was crouching over the fire making coffee for himself 

//^ V / ''// //y ^/// / and his "pard." After 

much blowing of the 
struggling flame, and 
strangling in the 
smoke, he had suc- 
ceeded in bringing it 
^^ to a boil, when the 
fagots on which the 
kettle stood gave way 





and it tipped over, 
deluging the fire with 
the coffee and send- 
ing up a cloud of 
steam and ashes that 
well-nigh smothered 
him. Si stood speech- 
less, in utter despair. 
He felt that no 
greater catastrophe 
could have befallen 
him. He realized, as never before, the poverty of language 
at times of extreme provocation. 

"Shortv," he said sadly, "it makes me feel bad some- 
times ter hear ve sw'ar, but ther' can't nuthin' else do jes 



SUPPER UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 



FIELD ARCHITECTURE. 337 

tice ter this c'lamity. Ef ye'd say a few o' them words, 
seems ter ine it 'd be kind o' soothin'." 

The idea of swearing for his comrade made Shorty laugh 
so that he could not have done it if he had wanted to. 

"The wust on it is," said Si. "I put in the last particle 
o' coffee we had, n' now we'll have ter go 'thout. The 
rest o' the boys hain't got none, so we can't borry. This 
's 'bout the hardest row o' stumps 't we've struck." 

There was no help for it,- and they were obliged to eat 
what little they had for supper without the solace of coffee. 

Word came that, as was feared, the wagons were hope- 
lessly stalled three or four miles back, and the men would 
have to get along as best ihej could. The prospect was 
dreary and cheerless enough. It was little wonder that 
many of the young Hoosiers felt as if they would rather 
quit and go home. But with that wonderful facility for 
adapting themselves to circumstances that marked the 
volunteer soldiers, they set about the work of making shift 
for the night. No one who has not "been there" can im- 
agine how good a degree of comfort — comparatively speak- 
ing, of course — it was possible to reach, even with such 
surroundings, by the exercise of a little patience, ingenuity 
and industry. 

Si and Shorty and the others of the " mess " bestirred 
themselves, and it did not take them long to build, out of 
rails and cornstalks, a shelter that was really inviting. 
Shorty, who was fertile in resource, directed the work as 
chief architect. He was ably seconded by Si, who engaged 
in the enterprise with great ardor. * ' I jest tell ye, ' ' he said, 
viewing it with satisfaction, "that ain't no slouch of a 
shanty!" 

They kindled a big fire in front of it, laid some rails 
■within, covered them with stalks, and on these spread 
their blankets. It was unquestionably the best that 
could be done under the circumstances, but as a dormi- 
tory it had its drawbacks. The rain continued to drizzle 



338 



si's tongue loose again. 



down during the dismal night, and trickled upon their 
faces and soaked through their blankets as thej lay in 
their saturated garments, under their rude and imperfect 
shelter. Wet, clammy and altogether wretched, they passed 

the long hours, and 
were glad when 
morning came. As 
the daylight strug- 
gled through the 
misty air, the sound 
of bugles and drums 
fell upon the ears of 
the soldiers. 

** Don't see no use 
gittin' up so arly 
this mornin','* said 
Si, as Shorty threw 
off the blanket. "I 
hain't got nuthin' 
'NO SLOUCH OF A SHANTY." fcr brcakfast, no- 
how, 'n' if 'twan't fer roll-call I' d jest lie here t'll time ter 
start. The ord'ly said we wouldn't git no rations to- 
day. I feel mighty 

empty, 'n' I don't ^^K^^^S^^^!^,^5?^^ 

quite see how^ I'm 

goin' ter make the 

riffle. I s'pose I'll 

git thar some way 

er ruther. I heerd 

the ajitant tellin' 

the cap'n las' night 

we'd got ter pull ^^^ ^^.^^rrll^^ C '^^:^ 0/^V .r^^ ^ 

through twenty 

miles 'fore w^e got lubricating oil needed. 

ter the next campin' place. Looks t' me like we was goin' 

ter have a mighty tough row ter hoe today. Jiminy, but 





A FAMINE IMMINENT. 339 

I'm 's stiff this moriiin' 's if I'd laid in the starch all 
night." 

"Wall, I reck'n ye've got ter git up," said Shorty, "'n' 
there ain't no use lyin' here growlin'." 

Si's joints creaked as he raised himself, and seemed to be 
sorely in need of lubricating oil. 

"Tell ye what, Shorty," he said, as he tried to double 
himself enough so that he could tie his shoes, "we'll have 
ter bore some holes at the j'ints 'n' carry 'long an ile-can 
so 's we kin limber up once 'n awhile. I need greasin' this 
mornin' 's bad 's ever our old waggin did." 

Shorty was more provident than Si. He had saved 
something over from supper the night before, so that he 
might at least partially fortify himself for the day's march. 

"I've got a leetle left," he said. "'Tain't much, but I'll 
go cahoots w^ith ye. It '11 be a purty slim meal fer two, 
but 's long 's I've got a cracker half on it's yourn, ef ye 
need it!" 

"Pard," said Si, "I don't see how I'd git along without 
ye. I'd do 's much fer you, only — ^ye know, Shorty — I 
don't never have nuthin' left.'' 

This state of destitution was universal throughout the 
regiment. Breakfast was marked by the most extreme 
frugality. The men turned their haversacks inside out 
and devoured the last crumb they contained. No miracu- 
lous power interposed, as when the five loaves and two 
fishes were spread before the multitude and they "ate and 
were filled." Few indeed of the soldiers had a "trust in 
Providence'' sufficiently strong and well defined to take 
the place of hardtack. 

With long, sour faces, and tempers sadly out of joint, 
the men fell into their places and the column drew out. 
The clouds hung heavy and dark, like great sponges from 
which the water oozed unceasingly. Everybody was in a 
condition of abject misery. Every old soldier will remem- 
ber many such days — how he went sloshing along through 



340 PATRIOTISM HAS A RELAPSE. 

the mire, with soaked and dripping garments, the water 
squirting up inside his trousers legs at every other step, 
while the maddening drizzle seemed gradually to extin- 
guish the fires of jDatriotism that before had burned so 
fiercely in his breast. It was so that day with the 200th 
Indiana. Their clothing was saturated, they were be- 
numbed by the cold, the water slowly trickled from their 
blue fingers and noses, and they felt themselves growing 
sadly indifferent as to what fate might befall the old flag. 

"Durned if I'm ever goin' ter love another country!" 

It w^as Si that said this. It is true that he did not at 
that time have any patriotic affection to spare for be- 
stowal elsewhere. He needed all he had for immediate 
use. His remark was a fair index to the feeling that pre- 
vailed from front'to rear of that bedraggled column. This 
became more marked when, soon after noon, there came 
one of those sudden changes so characteristic of the South 
at certain seasons, and the temperature began to fall rap- 
idly. It kept going down, below the freezing point, and 
the boys thought it never would stop. The rain changed 
to sleet and then to snow, while a keen and bitter wind 
chilled the very marrow in their bones. Their clothes 
were soon frozen and their sleeves and trousers legs were 
like joints of stove-pipe. 

Mile after mile, with shivering limbs and chattering 
teeth, hungry and forlorn, the men trudged on through 
blinding snow, facing the pitiless blast. None but those 
who have experienced it can realize the utter and absolute 
w^retchedness of stich a situation. The hearts of many 
who may read this will yearn with sj^mpathy and com- 
passion for Si and Shorty, and their comrades of the 200th 
Indiana. 

Minutes stretched into hours, and hours that seemed 
interminable dragged along in slow procession, as 
if they, too, were chilled and stiffened. The regimental 
flag had been rolled around its staff and covered with its 



WORSE AND MORE OF IT. 341 

sheath of black. The twinkle of its stars and the rustle 
of its silken folds no longer cheered the drooping spirits of 
those who had sworn to follo\v and defend it. 

"It'll be askin' a good deal of a feller to love his own 
country, if this sort o' thing keeps up much longer! " said 
Corporal Klegg, as a kind of appendix to his former ob- 
ser-vation. 

When Si weakened there was little hope for anybody else. 
His exuberant spirits did not yield to ordinary' discourage- 
ments. His remark elicited no reph% for as the men 
trudged along it seemed that they didn't w^ant to do any- 
thing except commune with their own thoughts. But they 
all felt that Si had hit the bull's-eye. 

Night came on and darkness settled dow^n upon that band 
of despondent patriots. The snow fell thicker and heavier, 
and already lay inches deep upon the ground. More bitter 
and relentless blew the biting blast. There were yetiniles 
to be traveled before reaching the place of bivouac. 

Two hours more the column pulled itself along, and then 
turned into a field. The half-dead soldiers set up a strag- 
gling yell, rather feeble, it is true, but expressive in some 
degree of the delight with which they hailed the end of 
the toilsome da^-'s march. A detail w^as immediately sent 
to the town near by for rations. The men had eaten noth- 
ing since their scanty breakfast. Pending the arrival of 
supplies, the soldiers betook themselves to the unpromising 
task of preparing for the night. 

There may be some among those w^ho have formed the 
acquaintance and followed the fortunes of Si Klegg and 
Shorty, who have no experimental knowledge of "soldier- 
ing." Let such, if they can, imagine themselves members 
of the 200th Indiana as it broke ranks that night. Cold, 
hunger and fatigue were doing their work. Clothes w^ere 
frozen stiff. Icicles hung from the men's garments, the 
rims of their hats and their beards. The snow was still 
falling, and covered the ground ankle deep. The wand 



342 



HARD LINES. 



blew fiercely, nipping ears and noses and fingers with its 
frosty breath. Could there be a more cheerless and for- 
bidding prospect for a night's lodging? 

Fires were the first thing thought of. Through the dark- 
ness and blinding storm the men groped their way, seeking 
the nearest fences. No order against depredations would 
have been observed that night, though it came from a gen- 
eral with all the stars in the firmament upon his shoulder- 
straps. 
Back with their burdens of fuel came the men, and in 

a few moments the 
kindling flames be- 
gan to glimmer 
feebly through the 
darkness. Soon 
great heaps of rails 
were all ablaze. 
Around them, in 
ghostly array, hov- 
ered the shivering 
soldiers, eager to 
catch the warmth 
that was given out 
by the now roaring 
fires. Ah, who does 
not remember what 
a blessed privilege it 
was at such a <(:ime 
to stand before those burning piles ! How thankful those 
half- frozen Hoosiers were for even thus much of comfort ! 

Si's elastic spirits w^ere among the first to rise under the 
genial warmth that was gradually diffused, in spite of 
wind and snow. 

''Let's brace up. Shorty," he said, as he stood warming 
first one side and then the other, while the steam from his 
thawing clothes enveloped him like a cloud of incense. ' ' It's 




A POLAR EXPERIENCE. 



SI WANTS to MURDER THE ORDERLY. 343 

a good deal wuss 'n we thought 'twould be this mornin', 
but we're livin' yet, and I reck'n after what we've been 
through ter day we kin stand anything. We're goin' ter 
git some rations d'reckly, 'n' we won't have ter go off 
huntin' fer water, nuther, 'cause we kin jest melt snow to 
make coffee of. By that time mebbe the waggins 11 be up, 
'n' we'll scrape away the snow, 'n' stick up the tent, 'n' 
build a big fire 'n front of it, 'n' have a bully time ! " 

Shorty did not fully share Si's enthusiasm over the pros- 
pect, but cheerfully stirred around to assist in doing what 
they could. Si felt that in the experience of that day they 
had touched bottom. He did not think it possible to reach 
any lower point in the scale of human misery'. But there 
were yet greater depths which he and Shorty and the rest 
were very soon to fathom. 

"Company 0, get ready to go on picket immediately! " 

This cheerful command was shouted by the orderly, on 
receiving a message from the sergeant-major that it was 
Company Q's "turn." The sergeant-major did not linger 
around among the boys of that company. He w^ent 
back to his quarters in a hurry, as if in mortal fear of his 
life. 

" Git yer traps on, men, an' fall in, lively! '' exclaimed the 
orderly. 

"We hain't had nuthin'toeatyet !" said Corporal Klegg, 
aghast at the prospect of continuing his fast ; "can't we 
hold on t'll the grub comes ? " 

"We're all jest as hungry as you be, Mr. Klegg," replied 
the orderly, "but we've got to go all the same, an' there's 
no use in kickin'. You git in yer place as sudden as ye 
can." 

"Shorty, I don't b'lieve it 'd be very wicked to kill the 
ord'ly, would it? " said Si, who thought it might be con- 
sidered justifiable homicide. 

"Mebbe not," replied his comrade, "but 'twouldn't do 
no good 'cause they'd 'pint 'notherone right away. 'Sides. 



344 ON PICKET IN THE SNOW. 

ye ought to 'member 't he ain't ter blame. The sargent- 
major 's the man yeVe after." 

It was hard lines for the boys, but there was no help for 
it. With much grumbling, and with longing glances at the 
cheerful fires, they marched away in the darkness. The 
company was ordered to establish its reserve on the pike, 
a mile from camp, posting its videttes at proper points on 
either side. 

Through the deepening snow chey moved to their station. 
The biting cold and the piercing blast took a fresh grip 
upon them. After the grateful warmth of the blazing rail- 
piles it was even more keenly felt than before. Scarcely a 
word was spoken as they traversed that dreary mile. A 
haystack near the pike was chosen for the headquarters, 
and sentinels were thrown out in front and on either flank 
v^ithin hailing distance. 

Those upon the reserve began casting about to see if 
anything could be done in the way of making themselves 
in any measure comfortable. Si proposed to build a fire 
and began operations in that direction, but the scheme was 
promptly knocked in the head by the captain, who told 
him he had been in the service long enough to know that 
fires were never permitted on the picket-line at night, under 
any circumstances. Si made no reply to the captain, but he 
told Shorty that he thought such a night as that ought to 
be an exception to any rule that ever was made. 

A shelter from the storm v/as made by leaning rails 
against the sides of the stack and covering them with hay. 
More hay was placed upon the ground within, after the 
snow had been scraped away, and upon this the men threw 
themselves, more dead than alive. 

It was a long, long night. Minutes seemed hours as they 
slowly dragged away. Chilled and benumbed through 
and through by the cold, now and then taking a turn out- 
side to keep their joints in working condition, the men 
shivered and waited for the dawn. 



A LONG NIGHT. 345 

Si and Shorty covered themselves with haj^ and hugged 
each other affectionately, in the vain hope of generating a 
little warmth, but they were like two blocks of ice packed 
in an ice-house. Their clothing actually froze together, so 
that when they were called to go on duty it required no 
little effort to get themselves separated and find out how 
much of the heap was Si and how much was Shorty. 

"Seems to me there ain't much glor^^ in dyin' here in the 
snow," said Si. ''If we gits killed in a fight, that's all right; 
it's what we listed fer. But them speechifyers 't come 
round didn't say nothin' 'bout freezin' to death, 'n' I don't 
see a bit o'' fun in it, nuther." 

"Keep up yer Ebenezer, Si,"" said Shorty, through his 
chattering teeth. " YeVe v.aith mor n half a dozen corpses 
yet. It's purty tough, but ye'll be 'live 'n' kickin' termor 
rer. jest the same." 

Shorty had to go out and take his "trick" as vidette, 
and Corporal Klegg went with the squad to relieve a por- 
tion of the line. 

"Good-by, Shorty," said Si, as he left his pard stand- 
ing in a fence corner ; "keep a stiff upper lip." 

"Upper lip 's purty near froze stiff now, 'n' I guess there 
won't be much trouble 'n keepin' it that way while I'm on 
post." 

'^ Ye'll have ter keep movin' 'round," said the man whom 
Shorty had relieved, "er the next relief '11 find ye friz solid!" 

At the pike Si found a forlorn citizen who was pleading 
for permission to pass through the lines to his house, a short 
distance beyond. Si promptly took him in charge and 
marched him to the haystack. He was shaking with the 
cold, and begged piteously that the captain would let him 
go home. The ofiicer told him his orders were imperative 
to pass no one, and he would have to be held till morning. 
He placed him in charge of Si for safe keeping. He crawled 
in upon the hay, and Si felt a fiendish delight in listening to 
his groans and curses. 



346 WARMED AND FILLED. 

Morning came at length. At the first streak of dawo 
everybody turned out and gathered around a heap of rails 
and hay that had been made ready. 

" Who 's got a match ? " shouted Si, cheerily. "Mine 's 
all wet 'n' they won't go ! " 

All the matches in the party were found to be in the same 
useless condition. It was necessary to send a man to the 
nearest house, a quarter of a mile away, before a fire could 
be started. Then in a moment the pile was ablaze, and 
never w^as cheerful warmth more welcome. 

The members of Company Q gradually thawed them- 
selves out, and then came a realizing sense of the fact that 
they had eaten nothing for twenty-four hours. They felt 
that their situation was really growing desperate. Day- 
light revealed a barn not far away, and thither went a de- 
tachment of foragers. A "razor-back" pig was found 
which, by some miraculous intervention, had thus far 
escaped the ravages of war. A bayonet was instantly 
plunged through the animal's vitals, and he was borne oft 
in triumph. Half a bushel of frozen apples completed the 
results of the foray. On these and fresh pork the soldiers 
breakfasted. Two hours later they w^ere relieved by an- 
other company and returned to camp, where they found 
awaiting them an abundant supply of hardtack, bacon 
and coffee. 

"Feel 's though I c'd git away 'th a pile o' this stuff," 
said Si, as he and Shorty sat upon a rail with a kettle of 
steaming coffee, a dozen slices of toasted bacon, and a pile 
of crackers before them. "I've got a mighty big hole ter 
fill up, 'n' I ain't goin' ter quit till she's full, nuther ! " And 
he didn't. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

Sj has His FrasT Interview With the Paymaster, and is Beguh.ei; 
INTO the Uncertain Game of "Chuck-a-luck." 

ik^^AY, Shorty, have ye heerd the news?" said Cor- 

v^J^ poral Klegg one morning, as he came back from 
the spring with a couple of canteens of water for break- 
fast. Shorty was toasting some strips of swine s flesh on 
the end of a ramrod, his comrade's function being to make 
the coffee. Si had come up on a run, wath a smile that ex- 
panded over every part of his round face, and it w^as evi- 
dent that he w^as the bearer of good tidings. 

"What's up now?" asked Shorty, as he blew out the 
blaze that w^as too rapidl}^ consuming the bacon. 

"Goin' ter git paid off to-day! Bill Jinkins told me 
down ter the spring 't he heerd the cap'n say so ter the 
ord'ly. I come 's quick 's ever I could ter tell ye, 'cause I 
knowed ye'd be glad ter hear it." 

Si sat down on a log to recover his wind, and think 
about what he would do with all the money he w^as going 
to get. 

"Tell ye what. Shorty," he said, "I'll feel kind o' proud- 
like ter send some money home, though I don't 'spose 
they're sufiferin' fer it. Dad said when I 'listed he'd have 
ter hire some feller t' work 'n my place, but I reck'n he's 
able ter pay him. I'm goin' ter send five dollars apiece ter 
mother 'n' sister Marier jest fer a present, so they'll know 
I don't forgit 'em. Then I want ter send another fiver, er 

347 



348 CHRONIC INSOLVENCY. 

a ten-spot" — here Si checked his tongue and finished the 
sentence in his thoughts, for he didn't dare tell it even to 
Shorty — "fer Annabel. I'd git suthin purtv 'n' send to 
her 'f I could, but the sutler hain't got nothin' o' that 
k-ind, 'n' if he had he'd charge me fifteen times too much. 
So I'll jest send her an X, 'n' tell her ter git a nice ring er 
suthin ter remember me by. There's no tellin' but this '11 
be the last chance I'll ever have ! " 

Shorty laughed as he read Si's thoughts. "Better wait," 
he said, " 'n' see how much ye git. Don't count yer chickens 
t'U after they 's hatched ! " 

For some time Si and Shorty had been financially insolv- 
ent. Their liabilities — all to the sutler — were an unknown 
quantity, and their assets could have been expressed by a 
single cipher. They had shown the same reckless disre- 
gard of expense that characterized all the new troops, and 
v\.^hat money they brought from home had rapidly found 
its way into the cash-box of the "skinner." Si's empty 
pocket-book was a source of serious alarm to him until 
Shorty told him that he could get "checks" of the sutler 
"on tick,'' to be paid for the first paj'-day. Si thought 
the sutler was very kind to "trust" the boys. Everyday 
or two he bought "another dollar's worth o' checks, 
please," and they were duly charged up to him. In this 
way the pickles and cheese and canned peaches did not 
seem to cost anything, and he was lavish in his invest- 
ments, without a thought of the day of reckoning. 

But it was a happy time for them when the paymaster 
came. It did not occur to Si to figure up how much he 
w^ould get, nor had he any idea what amount he owed 
the sutler. 

"I don't need ter pay him this time fer all them checks," 
he said, "he kin jest 's well wait t'll next time fer part on 
it." 

"Ye kin bet the skinner don't git left!'' replied Shorty. 
*'The paymaster stands in with him 'n' snatches ye bald- 



THE PAYMASTER S VISITS. 349 

headed; he takes right out o' yer pay 's much 's the skin- 
ner says, 'n' that settles it. Ye can't help yerself." 

Si and Shorty had pooled their resources while they 
lasted, for their mutual advantage, but the last five-cent 
scrip had disappeared. 

"I've fergot how money looks," said Shorty. "Ef this 
'ere hull camp was sellin* fer a dime shinpl aster, I couldn't 
buy a tent-pin. I reck'n we ain't goin' ter git enough to 
hurt us any. A feller don't git rich very fast on thirteen 
dollars a month. Then, ye know, the sutler '11 git the fust 
grab at it, to pay fer all them checks we've been havin' of 
him. What thar '11 be left won't scare ye !" 

Si hadn't thought of this. When he brought his mind to 
bear upon the cold facts he realized their truth, and it re- 
duced several degrees the temperature of his enthusiasm. 

" Guess you're right, Short\%" he said, and then added, 
philosophically, "but it'll be jest 's good 's a mint 's long 
as it lasts. When it's gone we kin go to buyin' checks 
agin." 

Theoretically, the money purveyor came around once in 
two months, and the muster-rolls for payment were 
made out covering that period. But the paymaster, al- 
though he alwaj^s wore a gorgeous uniform and put on 
more st3^1e than the general commanding, was not a 
fighter. When there was danger of hearing bullets whistle 
he kept well to the rear. The exigencies of active service 
not infrequently delayed getting "paid off" for four or six 
months at a time. " Chuck- a-luck," "Honest John,'* and 
other curious and exciting games, that the boj^s engaged 
in when they were "flush," languished, and for the time 
almost disappeared. The possession of cash became a 
matter of tradition. At length, when all was quiet at the 
front, the paymaster would slip up, unlock his box, and 
feed the boys with a half year's rations. For a few days 
everybody rolled in wealth. 

The 200th Indiana had not yet been two months in ser- 



350 



HAPPY HOOSIERS. 



vice, but at the first regulation pay-day its account was 
to be settled up to that time, so that it might start even 
on the next bi-monthly period. 

Early in the day the regiment went through the cere- 
mony of being mustered for pay. The paymaster — with 
shoulder-straps and brass buttons that shone as if 
they were right from the foundry, and \vith that swell- 
ing air of importance that is always assumed by a man 
who handles and pays out large amounts of money — occu- 
pied a tent at regi- 
mental headquar- 
ters, surrounded by 
a cordon of guards 
with bristling bay- 
onets. 

Each company 
in turn Avas march- 
ed up to the tent. 
The men were at 
their best. They 
had brushed their 
clothes, washed 
their faces and 
combed their hair 
in honor of such an 
important and rare 
occasion. The pay- 
master was the big- 
gest man in camp that daj^ and the next in size was his fussy 
clerk. The sutler, who was the chief beneficiary of the 
paymaster's visit, was on hand with his accounts against 
the men for the checks they had got since their funds ran 
out. If two or three dollars apiece were charged up all 
around for checks they never had, few of them w^ere any 
the wiser, and it w^as so much more clear profit for the 
sutler. 




"paying off. 



THE officers' "pile." 351 

The clerk called the expectant patriots one b}^ one from 
the rolls, showed each man where to sign his name, and 
swore volubly at those who couldn't write as fast as he 
could. When a man succeeded in getting his autograph 
on the wrong line, the clerk fired a sulphurous volley at 
him that made him turn pale with fear. Then the clerk 
figured out the amount due him, after deducting the claim 
of the sutler, and the paymaster counted it out in crisp, 
crackling bills and scrip. With a bow and an involuntary 
"Thank'ee, sir!" he received his money and turned away, 
an object of supreme envy, for the moment, to those whose 
names began with W and Y and were therefore at the end 
of the roll. 

"Attention, Company Q!" 

The boys had been standing in line half an hour, waiting 
to be summoned into the solemn and awful presence of 
the paymaster. They responded briskly as these words 
of command fell from the lips of the orderly. A moment 
later the company stood, carefully right-dressed, in front 
of the pay-tent. The captain and the lieutenants were 
first attended to. For their six or seven weeks of service 
they got about tw^o hundred dollars apiece. Si thought 
the nimble fingers of the paj^master would never get 
through counting out the ten-dollar bills to them. He 
was a little deficient in mathematics, but he had a vague 
notion that it wouldn't take quite as long to count out 
bis money as it did the captain's. 

The orderly came next on the roll after the officers. 
Si noticed that there was a very sudden shrinkage in the 
size of the "pile." The captain and the lieutenants got 
whole handfuls of bills, that made their pockets bulge out 
like the bay-windows of a house, when they stowed them 
away. Two or three spry flips of the paymaster's fingers 
quickly made up the thin parcel that was handed to the 
orderly as his stipend— and Si supposed tha.the got a good 
deal more pay than a corporal. 



352 CORPORAL KLEGG AND THE CLERK. 

It did not take long to go through the sergeants and 
then the clerk struck the corporals. Although Si Klegg's 
name was at the end of the list — as he was onJy eighth 
corporal — his heart throbbed with pleasurable emotions 
at the thought that his impoverished condition \vould be 
relieved several minutes sooner than if he was a poor pri- 
vate, and his name was away down among the K's. 

"Corporal Josiah Klegg!" at last called out the clerk. 

Si took off his hat, put it under his arm, and walked 
shyly up, with a scared look on his face, to the table on 
which the financial business was being transacted. On 
the other side of it sat the paymaster, overpowering in his 
dignity, Mrith. his big tin box full of money. Next to him 
was the fidgety clerk, and at one end of the table that man 
of gall and iron-plated cheek, the sutler. 

"Take this pen and sign yer name there," said the clerk* 
indicating the place with the tip of the holder. 

"On this line?" asked Si. 

"Yes, right there where I told ye!" replied the clerk, 
with a flavor of mustard and pepper in his voice. 

Si carefull}' dipped the pen in the ink-bottle and, in doing 
so, lost the line on the muster-roll. The roll was nearly as 
large as a barn-door, and it was almost necessary for one 
to have a chart and compass in order to keep his bearings 
on its broad expanse and among its multitudinous col- 
umns. 

"Which line?" asked Si, timidly, for he saw indications 
of a storm on the face of the impatient clerk. 

"Why, there ! Haven't ye got any eyes in yer head ?" 

"Oh, this 'ere 's the one ye mean?" said Si, putting his 
finger down in such a way as to cover two or three adja- 
cent lines. 

Then he seized the pen with a grip like the claws of a 
lobster, screwed up his mouth, and began to build a J. 
Some of the corporals not being present there were va- 
cant lines, and Si managed, after all, to start in wrong. 



SI REINFORCED BY THE COLONEL. 353 

"That ain't the place!" said the clerk, snappishly. 
"How many times have I got to tell ye?" And he vi- 
ciously stabbed his pencil through the paper at the right 
spot. "If all of Company Q are as slow as jou we won't 
get 'em paid off in a week. Now hustle, you — " 

"Gently, gently, there!" interrupted the colonel, who 
w^as sitting in the tent exercising a fatherly supervision 
over the operations. "Have a little patience with Cor- 
poral Klegg. Perhaps he ain't as smart as you are with 
a pen, but he is one of my best soldiers, and I'm not going 
to have him abused." Then, turning to Si, he added: 
"Start right, Corporal, and then just go ahead and sign 
your name." 

Si blushed at the colonel's compliment, and was reas- 
sured by knowing that he had such good backing. For 
an instant he felt that he would like to have the paymas- 
ter's clerk out back of the tent for a few minutes, and he 
would polish him off so thoroughh^ that they would have 
to carry him to the hospital on a stretcher. He was 
tempted to give the clerk a piece of his mind, but was 
afraid that if he did he wouldn't get his money. So he 
pocketed his wrath, mentally resolving that he would lie 
low for the clerk that night and try and get a chance to 
"ptmch his head." 

Once more applying himself to his task, he had, after much 
labor, finished "Josiah," 
when he heard the clerk 
figuring out the amount 
due him. 

" Let's see," mused the 
clerk, " one month and his autograph. 

sixteen days. One month is thirteen dollars, and — " 

"How much did ye say?" asked Si, as he stopped and 
looked .at the clerk with astonishment. 

"I said one month was thirteen dollars," replied the 



^ 






354? A MANIFEST INJUSTICE. 

testy clerk. * " Don't interrupt me again, sir, if you 
please! " 

"But — but don't —c-corporils — git any — more 'n that? 
That's same 's — privits ! " 

"Thirteen dollars a month, sir! " and the clerk took up 
the thread of his calculation. * ' Sixteen days at forty-three 
and one-third cents a day is — 6 times 3 's 18; 6 times 4 's 
24 'n' 1 's 25; 5 'n' 3 's 8; 4 n' 2 s 6— 6. 88,% of 16 's 51/3, 
makes six dollars 'n' ninety-three 'n' one-third cents. Well 
have to dock the third of a cent, 'cause the government 
can't afford to give ye the other two-thirds. Add thirteen 
for one month, whole amount 's nineteen dollars 'n' ninety- 
threecents. Howmuch doesthisman owe ye, Mr. Sutler?" 

"Eight dollars fifty," was the prompt answer. 

"All right ; subtract eight fifty, leaves eleven forty- three. 
That's right, major ! " 

Si had felt some inclination to continue the argument 
with the clerk. It seemed to him a glaring inconsistency 
to pay a man with stripes on his arms no more than a 
private. But he realized that debate would be useless. So 
while the clerk was engaged in his mathematics Si finished 
his autograph. Then, almost before he could think, the 
paymaster whisked upon the table two five-dollar bills, a 
one-dollar, four ten-cent scrips and three pennies. 

The government started out to pay the soldiers in gold 
and silver. But the specie ran out in less than a year, and 
money that "chinked" was not again seen during the war 
— except by those who bought United States bonds, and 
clipped off their coupons at stated intervals. Greenbacks, 
at a discount of from twenty to sixty per cent., were con- 
sidered good enough for the soldiers. Patriotism was ex- 

* In the infantry arm of the service corporals received the same pay as 
privates until May, 1864. Then the pay of privates v^^as increased to 
sixteen dollars per month, and the valor and efficient services of such 
men as Corporal Klegg were recognized by fixing the pay of that grade 
at eighteen dollars per month. 



A FINANCIAL DISAPPOINTMENT. 



355 



pected to supply the deficiency. Fractional parts of a 
dollar were issued in the form of scrip — " shinplasters " 
the soldiers called them. 

"Next!" said the clerk, as he began to call up the privates. 

Si picked up the money and walked slowly away. He 
felt as though something had struck him — he hardly knew 
what. A misty idea floated through his brain that in some 
way he had "got left." It is true that as compared with 
his previous indigent condition he felt now as if he owned 
a bank, but still the thought that he had not been fairly 
treated by the government he had tried to serve so 
faithfully, caused a tem- - 
porary depression of 
spirits. He went off b^-- 
himself, sat down be- 
hind a tree, and went 
into executive session, 

" 'Leven dollars 'n' 
forty -three ceiits, " he 
exclaimed, as he counted 
it over, "fer nigh 'bout 
two months of a mighty 
sight harder work 'n I 
ever done on the old 
farm. Choppin' wood 
'n' hoein' corn 'n' hayin' 
ain't a patchin' to it. 
It's purty small pay 
fer all this drillin' 'n' 
marchin' 'n'stan'in' picket 'n the rain 'n' lyin' 'round 'n the 
mud. 'Leven dollars 'n' forty-three cents ! An' that pesky 
old sutler; he looked jest as if he was sorry he couldn't grab 
the rest on it. I'll never buy 'nother thing of the skinner 
's long 's I'm in the sarvice! " 

This was a rash thing to say, but it is what the boys al- 
ways said. And two hours later they would swarm 




'leven dollars 'n' forty-three 
cents! " 



356 SI MUSES OVER IT. 

around the sutler's "shebang" Hke flies around a molasses 
barrel. 

The sutler's figures had fairly staggered Si. He knew he 
had bought a few checks now and then, but he could not 
remember half that amount. He had not kept any account, 
but somehow it seemed to him that the sutler and the pay- 
master, who had even clipped off that third of a cent, were 
like the two jaws of a vise, and between them they had 
squeezed him pretty hard. 

It was a deep humiliation to Si to find that he got no 
more pay than a private. He really felt that the extra 
mental and physical wear and tear caused by the arduous 
duties and responsibilities of a corporal, ought to be recom- 
pensed by several dollars a month additional. He did not 
know, until he found out by experience, that the glory of 
a soldier's first promotion was considered to be an ample 
equivalent for all official requirements. But before Si had 
succeeded in adjusting his feelings to this view of the case 
he was more than half inclined to try and organize among 
the corporals a strike for higfier wages, in the hope of secur- 
ing just ice. 

Si was soon joined by Shorty, who, after getting his 
money, hunted up his comrade. It was a sort of holiday 
In camp, in view of the extraordinary nature of the occa- 
sion. 

" How much 'd ye git. Shorty?" asked Si, as his "pard " 
sat down beside him. 

" 'Bout the same 's you did." 

"'Tain't very hefty, is it?" 

"I sh'd ruther say not," replied Short}^; "but it's 's 
much 's I thought there 'd be after the sutler 'd had his 
grab," 

"Wall, it's all right," said Si, whose elastic spirits soon 
rebounded to their natural level ; "we ain't doin' all this 
eatin' hardtack 'n' tram pin' 'round fer fun nor fer money. 
As fur 's that goes, I wouldn't do it fer all a jigadier-brin- 



"CHUCK-A-LUCK." 357 

die gits. 1 'spose it's what the spouters calls patri'tism. 
You 'n' me 's goin' ter stick to this thing, anyhow, t'U we 
gits them rebils licked out o' their boots. But say, Shorty.. 
I'd like ter git a good crack at that 'ere snappin'-turtleof a 
clerk 't the paymaster has ter do his figgerin'. He'd think 
he'd bin kicked by a hull mule team. Wouldn't I dance ter 
see him marchin' with a gun on his shoulder? " 

Already the various industries that showed so much ac- 
tivity immediately after pay-day had begun to thrive 
around the 200th Indiana. The fresh troops, the first time 
they were paid off, fell an easy prey to the seductive allure- 
ments of "chuck-a-luck." This is a game not especially 
calculated to promote intellectual or moral improvement. 
A novice thinks he can see through it right away, but 
there is where he makes a mistake. The more he tries 
it the less he knows about it. Experience is also likely to 
be expensive. The other fellow always seems, in the long 
run, to get the money. 

The innocent youths of the 200th laid in a stock of ex 
perience that day. Hardened reprobates from some of the 
veteran regiments gathered in the woods about the camp, 
sj)read their " lay-outs " under the trees, with piles of money 
in front of them, and began to rattle their dice in a tan- 
talizing way. The boys gathered about, like minnows 
nibbling at a hook baited with the first angle-worm of 
spring. Within an hour scores of these games were in full 
blast. 

Si and Shorty loitered around to see what was going on. 
Si became a good deal interested, especially when he saw a 
member of Company win several times in succession. He 
wondered if luck wouldn't favor him so that hecouldmake 
up what the pajmiaster ought to have given him because 
he was a corporal, but didn't, and the amount that had 
gone into the voracious maw of the sutler. He had a some- 
what indefinite idea that chuck-a-luck was wrong, and it 
would make his mother feel bad, but, if the truth must be 



358 



SI "gives her a turn, 



told, Si's conscience had been severely burdened since he 
left home, and was getting a little tired. 
"I've a notion ter give her a turn," he said to Shorty. 
" Better not," replied hiscomrade. " Themfellers 'Uhorn' 
swoggle ye, 'n' they '11 bust ye sartin 'f ye play long 'nufl'.** 
But Si never wanted to take anybody's word for anything. 
He would rather find out for himself. 

"I'll jest go them four ten-cent shinplasters I've got, 

n' if I lose 'em, 
1 11 quit," said Si. 
"Whet number '11 
I try first ? " 
'1^^ "I ain't goin' ter 
give ye no advice, 
'cept ter quit 'fore 
ye begin," said 
Shorty. " Besides, 
ef I pick a number 
fer ye it'll be dead 
sure ter lose. ThatV 
the way it alius 
was with me when 
I used ter buck agin 
it." 

" Here goes on 
the 4," said Si, and 
he laid one of his 
scrips on that figure. It disappeared at the first throw 
of the dice. 

"Now I'll try the 6," and the second scrip went to keej) 
company with the other. 

It took just four throws to get rid of his change. As the 
"banker" raked in the money Si began to get excited. 
His losses already reached the limit he had fixed, but he 
could not think of stopping there. 

" I've got ter git that back. Shorty," he said, " 'oause I 




CHUCK-A-LUCK. 



AND IS LECTURED BY SHORTY. 359 

can't spar' it. I'll jest go a quarter, 'n' ef I c'n win a 
couple o' times I'll be even 'n' then I'll sw'ar off. Here, 
pard," he said to the man with the dice, "gimme change 
fer this dollar ! Now" — lajdngdown a quarter — "sling yer 
ivories. I'll go that on the 3." 

This time Si won. "Thar, Shorty," he said, "I knowed 
't 'd come my way arter a while. Here goes a half, fer 
luck." 

The banker got it, and in two or three minutes had 
what remained of the dollar. Si began to feel for one of 
his five-dollar bills when Shorty took him by the arm. 

"Now, Si," he said, "I ain't goin' ter stan' here 'n' let 
them fellers skin ye 'live. Ye won't have a cent left 'n a half 
hour. You jest mosey 'long 'th me." 

Si got up w^ithout a word and walked away with his 
friend. Shorty gave him a lecture that lasted him till 
the war was over, and he never tried " chuck-a-luck " 
again. 

Notwithstanding Si's resolution that he would break off 
all commercial relations with the sutler, his appetite got 
the better of him. It was nearly supper time, and he 
thought some of those things the sutler had would taste 
good. He concluded, upon reflection, that he could not 
spend his money better than for something to eat. By a 
unanimous vote he and Shorty at once passed an appro- 
priation bill, and started for the sutler's. 

There was a great crowd around the big tent. Every- 
body seemed anxious to spend his money as fast as possi- 
ble. It went about as easily and rapidly as it did in play- 
ing chuck-a-luck. The sutler had spread out in tempting 
array a stock of new goods, and marked up the prices to 
keep pace with the active demand. His clerks were all on 
the jump and the money poured in. 

Si and Shorty made a few investments that they consid- 
ered to be judicious. A re-count of their funds after the 
purchases, however, warned them that at that rate of out- 



360 



REMITTANCES POSTPONED, 



lay they would very soon be again shivering in the chilling 
air of penury. 

One of the uses of a chaplain was to take home, after a 
pay-day, the money that the members of the regiment 
wanted to send. He usually got back in the course of 
two or three months. The chaplain of the 200th went on 
this errand, but the boys did not load him down very 
heavily. The sutler went, too, and he carried a good deal 




THE sutler's harvest. 

more money than the chaplain did. He was going to "salt 
down" part of it, and with the rest lay in a supply of 
goods for the next pay-day. 

It became painfully evident to Si that his cherished plan 
of making liberal remittances to various members of his 
family must be abandoned. 

"I guess mother 'n' Marier '11 have ter wait t'll next 
time," he said to himself, "but — " and an hour later Si 
placed in the chaplain's hand a letter. It said : 



BUT ANNIE IS REMEMBERED. 361 

Ky., Nov. 1800 and 62. 
Ceer Annie: We was pade off to-day. I dident git vary much only a 
little more 'n leven dollars. They give me jest the saim what a privit gits 
and Ime a Corporil. I think its almitey mean dont yew. And the sutler 
the boys calls him Skinner cause he takes the hide rite off he got purty ni 
haff my money. He sed I ode it to him fer checks. Checks is what the 
boys gits from the sutler wen they aint got enny money to bye pikles an 
sardeens an things. I gess the sutler puts dow^n too dollers on his 
book evry time a man byes one dollers worth of checks. Then it dont 
take more'n 5 minits to spend the checks. You hav to pay 10 sents fer 
a peece of cheese that aint enny biggem apostidgestamp. Thats the kind 
of a harepin the sutler is. Shorty sez he gives the kurnel lots of stuff but 
we cant all be kurnels fer thar woodent be ennyboddy to lik the rebbles. 
Now Annie this is the furst money I ever urned fer myself and I jest 
wanted to cend part of it fer yew to git sumthing thattle allways make 
ye think of Si. Yew may as well have it cause if ye doant Ime afeered 
the sutler will git it. Take this $5.00 and bye a wring to ware on yer 
finger. Yew no wich finger to put it on. If ennyboddy asks ye hoo 
give ye that wring and what yer warin it fer jist tell em nun of thare 
bizness. We has sum awfle hard times but Ime goin to stick by the star 
strangled banger as longs thares a rag of her left. 

The rose is red the vilets ble^v 

Sugar is sweet and bully fer yew. 

Always j^ourn Si Klegg. 

That night, after Si and Shorty had gone to bed, the rec- 
ollection of how the paymaster's clerk had treated him 
rankled in Si's breast. He felt that the great law of com- 
pensation required that he should in some way "get even'' 
with him. As he lay thinking over various schemes for 
revenge, a brilliant idea flashed through his mind. He 
thought he would ask his comrade about it. 

"Shorty, wake up a minnit ! " 

And Si rose and shook his bedfellow, who was already 
snoring. 

" Whatcher want? " said Shorty, with his temper some- 
what ruffled at being so rudely aroused. 

"I've got an idee! " said Si. 

"Wall, don't let it git away," said Shorty; " 'cause yc 
don't have many on 'em to spare." 

"Much obleeged t' ye, pard. But say, hev ye got any 
o' them, little pediculuses ? Ye know what I mean." 



362 A DARK PLOT. 

"I reck'n so," said Shorty; "but s'posin' T hev, w'at of 
it?" 

" Lemme tell ye 'bout a scheme I've got in my head. Ye 
know that smart feller that 's clerk fer the paymaster? " 

"Yaas!" 

"An' ye know how he sailed into me 'cause I kicked on 
gittin' only privit's pay, and 'cause I couldn't write fast 
enough ter suit him? I s'pose he hain't got any sand 'n' 
w^as in a hurry ter git back to the rear agin fer fear he'd 
git hurt." 

"Yaas!" 

"Wall, Shorty, he don't look 's if he'd ever seen one o* 
them leetle bugs 't makes things so lively fer us. I'd jest 
like ter corral a few on 'em 'n' go up ter the tent wharhe's 
sleepin' 'n' see 'f I can't turn 'em loose in his clothes. I'm 
goin' ter try it, anyhow I " 

By this time Shorty v^a.s fully awake and entered w^ith 
considerable enthusiasm into Si's plan. 

"That'll be tip-top, Si, ef ye can make it," he said. "Til 
see what I kin do fer ye ! '' 

So Si and Shorty stripped off their nether garments, 
lighted a candle, and began the search. It will be sufficient 
to say that they did not have to hunt a great while. They 
secured a dozen or so robust and healthy specimens, that 
seemed to have good appetites. Si carefully imprisoned 
them in a piece of paper, hurriedly drew on his clothes and 
started on his mission. 

"Be keerful ye don't git ketched," said Shorty; "ye 
know there's a guard there 'n' they'll think ye're tryin' to 
burgle the paymaster's monev-box." 

Fortunately the night was dark, and this favored Si's 
infamous plot. He crept cautiously up to the rear of the 
tent occupied by the paymaster and his clerk. A light was 
burning dimly within, and a guard was lazily pacing to 
and fro in front. 

Si raised the canvas and peeped under. The disbursers 



SQUARING ACCOUNTS WITH THE CI.ERK. 363 

of greenbacks were lying upon cots, one at each side of 
the tent, with their clothes at their heads. Si could dis- 
tinguish the major's uniiorm at one cot and he knew the 
other fellow was the clerk — the man he was after. 

"I s'pose he's got his shirt o»," he said to himself, 
"but it'll do jest 's well to put 'em inside his britches. 
They'll git thar jest the same." 

Si carefully drew down the clerk's trousers and in an in- 
stant the work was done. He returned the garment to 
its place and quietly went back to his quarters. 

"Guess I've got the bulge on him!" he said, as he en- 
tered the tent, where Shorty was waiting to learn the re- 
sult of his trip. 

"Fixed him, did ye. Si? " 

"Bet yer bottom dollar I did," and Si told him all about 
it. 

"Sarves him right!" said Shorty. "He thinks he's a 
beap better 'n the rest on us, but he ain't. He'll have 
'bout a thousand of 'em in a couple o' days." 

"I kinder wanted ter stick two or three on 'em in the 
paymaster's duds ; he pujts on so much style around here," 
said Si. 

"That'll be all right," replied Shorty, "hell ketch 'em 
from the clerk quick 'nuff!" 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

In Which Si goes Foraging, is Caught in a Spider's Web, and has a 

Close Call. 

THE 200th Indiana had been lying in camp for two or 
three days, and the ambitious heroes who composed 
that regiment were getting tired of loafing. Nothing chafed 
the spirit of the new troops like a condition, however brief, 
of masterly inactivity. They refused to be comforted un- 
less they were on the war-path all the time. Their ideal 
of a soldier's life was to take a rebel battery every morn- 
ing before breakfast, storm a line of works to give them 
an appetite for dinner, and spend the afternoon charging 
with cold steel the serried columns of the foe, climbing 
over heaps of slain, and wading around through seas of 
gore. 

"Company Q 's been detailed to help guard a forage train 
tomorrow," said the orderly one evening. "We've got to 
light out early, so ye want to be up 'n' dressed, with yer 
catridge-boxes full 'n' a day's rations in yer haversacks. 
Be sure 3^er guns is in good order, fer likely 'snot we'll have 
a skirmish 'fore we git back ! " 

Members of the other companies watched the prepara- 
tions with jealous eyes, envious because they were not de- 
tailed for the expedition instead of Company Q. 

"Say, Shorty," remarked Si, thoughtfully, "hadn't I 
better write a letter home? Who knows but we'll be 's 
dead 's mackerels tomorrer night ! " 

" Fiddlesticks ! " said Shorty. "What's the use o' havin' 

364 



AN EARLY START. 365 

a ftin'ral afore there's any corpse ! We've bin through one 
fight 'n' didn't git hurt, 'n' I've made up my mind there's 
no use gittin' into a stew over a thing that may hap'n 'n' 
may not. Time 'nu£f to fret 'bout it when it comes. Ef 
we're goin' to be killed we can't help it, so let's not fret our 
gizzards!" And Shorty crammed a handful of hardtack 
into his haversack. 

Shorty's view of the matter was not without its effect 
■upon Si. Indeed, it cannot be denied that there was a 
great deal of common sense in his homely philosophy. 
Sooner or later every soldier came gradually to adopt 
Shorty's idea as the governing principle of his military 
career. 

"Shouldn't wonder if you was 'bout right," said Si, as 
he sliced up some bacon to have it ready for an early break- 
fast. "You're better'n medicine ter keep a feller f 'm gittin* 
the blues." 

In the morning the orderly came around and stirred the 
boys up an hour before reveille, as they were to start at 
daylight. The primary object of the expedition was for- 
age for the animals, the supply of which had run short. 
Besides this each man had a secondary purpose, and that 
was to gather in something on his own hook that would 
satisfy his longing for a change of diet. This was always 
the unwritten part of an order to "go foraging." 

Daylight was just streaking over the camp when Com- 
pany Q, equipped in light marching order, leaving knap- 
sacks behind, moved out to where the two dozen wagons 
detailed from the brigade transportation were ready for 
the start. Each regiment in the brigade furnished a com- 
panv to serve as guards. The impatient mules were bray- 
ing and flapping their ears, as if they understood that they 
were to be the chief beneficiaries of the raid. 

"Pile in, boys!" said the orderly, and they clambered 
into the wagons. The guards were permitted to ride until 
there were symptoms of danger. 



366 



A HALT FOR INFORMATION. 



Then the muleteers, bestriding the big ' * wheelers, ' ' cracked 
their long whips, addressed to the mules the usual words 
of exhortation, and the procession drew out upon the 
stony pike and took a brisk trot. Considerable foraging 
had already been done in the vicinity, and it was expected 
the train would have to go out several miles in order to 
accomplish its object. The boys w^ere in fine spirits and 
enjoyed their morning ride, albeit the jolting of the wagons 
gave them a thorough shaking up. 
"I guess they forgot to put any springs in when they 

built these waggins !" 

■m/^y said Shorty, as he shift- 

^V/ ' ed his position so that 

he might catch the 




^^vl"^ bumps in a new place 



H^ TTfffr^j^' for a while. 

^ "Jest thinkin' that 

way myself, ' ' replied 
Si; "but all the same, 
it beats travelin'onthe 
hoof all holler!" 

Three or four miles 
out from camp the 
-' train was halted while 
^^fi the officers in com- 
mand made inquiries 
of a cadaverous na- 
tive who w^as sunning 
himself on the fence, and whose principal occupation seemed 
tobechewing tobacco and distributing the resultant liquid 
around in a promiscuous way. 

"Good morning, stranger," said the officer; "have yoti 
any corn on your place?" 

"Hain't got a dog-goned.earleft! "was the surly answer. 
"Some o' you-unses men wuz out here yisterdy 'n' tuk 
every bit I hed." 



A SOUTHERN "mOSSBACK." 



£?!# 



ON THE WAY TO SCROGGS's. 367 

This may or may not have been true. Inquiries of this 
nature always developed the factthatitwasaman'sneigh- 
bors who had plenty of corn ; he never had any himself. 

"Thar's ole man Scroggs," he continued; "he lives a 
matter o' two mile from hyar. I 'low ye'll git sum if ye go 
thar. He growed a power o' cawn this yeah ; he sold a 
heap, but I reckon he's got a right smaht left." 

During this time a couple of men, sent for that purpose, 
had been making a hasty examination of the outbuildings 
on the place. They reported that they could find nothing 
in the way of forage. If the man had any corn he had 
carefully concealed it. The train started on to pay a visit 
to "ole man Scroggs." 

"Say, pard," asked Si as his wagon drove past, "is there 
any rebs 'round here? " 

"There wuz a few Confedrit critter-men ridin' 'bout hyar 
this mawnin' ;— mebbv ve'll run agin 'em afore night." 

"How many o' your boys is among 'em ?" 

" We-uns is all Union." 

"Jest as long as we're 'round, I s'pose!" said Si. 

A mile further on those who were in the lead, rising to 
the crest of a hill, saw— or thought they saw— a few va- 
grant cavalrymen far ahead. The train was halted and 
dispositions were made to meet any emergency likely to 
arise. The men were ordered to "tumble out" of the 
wagons. The main body was formed in advance. A line 
of skirmishers was deployed in front and flankers were 
thrown out on either side. Thus protected, the mule 
drivers again cracked their whips and the column moved 
cautiously forward. 

"Now keep yer eyes skinned," said Si to Shorty, as 
they trailed along through the woods and fields and over 
fences, on one of the flanks. "If any o' them raskils comes 
dodgin' 'round here let's try 'n' have the first crack at 'em, 
n' git the start o' the rest o' the boys !" 

Keenly alert, with muskets loaded and capped, they 



368 A GOOD FIND. 

crept carefully along, poking their noses into every thicket 
and peering around every building. It v^as clear that 
there would not be anything in the nature of a surprise if 
the whole line was as well taken care of as the particular 
point guarded by Corporal Klegg and his faithful friend 
Shorty. 

"It's some like huntin' squirrels, ain't it, Shorty?" said 
Si, as they forced their way through a patch of brambles. 

"Wall, yes," replied Shorty; "but this 'pears to be 
rayther more excitin'. Ye know squirrels doesn't shute 
back at a feller like them pesky rebbles does, an' the fun 's 
all on one side. I reckon ef squirrels c'd shute there 
wouldn't be so much huntin' of 'em !" 

In due time the Scroggs plantation was reached. A 
thorough search showed that there was an abundance 
of corn on the place to load the wagons, and arrange- 
ments for a sudden transfer of the property were quickly 
made. A third of the force established a cordon of picket- 
posts around the working part}', covering all the avenues 
of approach, with reserves at convenient points. The 
remainder of the troops stacked arms and entered briskly 
upon the work of confiscation. 

Part of the harvest had already been gathered, and the 
first assault was made on a well-filled corn-house — one of 
a group of dilapidated outbuildings a little way from the 
dwelling. "Old man'' Scroggs protested with profane 
vehemence, reinforced by the "old woman" and the entire 
family of children. There could not well have been a more 
numerous progeny in one household anywhere outside of 
Utah. 

The head of the family cursed and swore, and his vv^ife 
and the big girls looked as if they wanted to do the same 
thing, as they wrung their hands, their eyes flashing fire; 
while the small-fry stood around and sobbed with a vague 
idea that some dire calamity had befallen them. 

The old Kentuckian declared that he was a "Union man,"' 



EMPTYING THE CRIB. 



369 



and that lie w*ju\d demand of the government restitution 
for this outrage. It was noticed that there were no young 
men around as there should be, according to the economy of 
nature, to preserve the balance of sex in so large a family. 
The officer in command asked him v^here all his sons were. 

"Wall, I kaint tell yer 'zactly whar they is," was the re- 
ply. "They ain't to hum jest now. I 'low they've got a 
right to g'way ef they want ter!'' 

The officer had been informed that there were severai 




CONFISCATION. 



representatives of the Scroggs family in the rebel army. 
The old man's avowal of loyalty was taken for what it 
was worth. That it was not rated at a high figure was 
well attested by the appearance of the plantation a few 
hours later. 

Meanwhile the soldiers kept right along in the duty as- 
signed them. The corn-house was surrounded by wagons, 
the roof was gently lifted off, and in scarcely more time 
than it takes to tell the story six or eight of the wagons 
were heaped with the contents. The mules wagged their 



370 SI AND SHORTY ON PICKET. 

ears and brayed in anticipation of the supply of rations 
they would have when they got back to camp. 

Then the force moved some distance and attacked a large 
field of standing corn. The stalks had been "topped, "but 
the ears were yet ungathered. The men started in between 
the rows and swept through that field like a tornado, pluck- 
ing the ears right and left. Bags, baskets and boxes were 
pressed into the service, and as there were not enough of 
these to go around, many carried the corn to the wagons by 
armfuls. It did not take more than an hour to strip every 
ear from the field. A visitation of seven-year locusts 
could not have done a more thorough job. 

*'Fo' de Lawd boss," said an old darkey who had 
been roosting on the fence watching the spoilers, "I nebber 
seed de crap gaddered so quick since Ise bawn. You-uns 
all is powerful sraaht, dat's shuah!" 

But where were Corporal Klegg and Shorty, while all 
this was going on ? 

They had been stationed as sentinels near a house, half a 
mile beyond, on the pike. They .were cautioned to keep a 
sharp lookout, and for a time they obeyed their instruc- 
tions to the letter. Their vigilant eyes swept the surround- 
ing country, and no rebel could have crept up on them with- 
out getting a pair of bullets from their ready muskets. 
They saw no signs of an enemy, and after a while it began 
to grow monotonous. 

"Shorty," said Si, "I don't b'lieve there's any seceshers 
'n these parts, 'n' there ain't no use 'n us both keepin' this 
thing up. You jest watch awhile 'n' I'll skin around 'n' see 
what I kin find." 

Shorty agreed to this, taking it as an order from his su- 
perior officer. Si threw his gun up to a " right-shoulder- 
shift " and started off, after again urging upon his com- 
panion the importance of attending strictly to his duty. 

Si had not gone far till he saw, penned in a corner of the 
barnyard, a cow with a full udder, fi-om which a frisky 



BEGUILED FROM DUTY. 



371 



young calf was busily engaged in extracting nourislinient. 
A violent feeling of envy toward that calf began immedi- 
ately to rage in his bieast. He had not had a drink of fresh 
milk since he left home, and he felt that a little refreshment 
of that kind would be particularly gratifjang to his inte- 
rior department. It would strengthen him and give him 
new courage to stand up to the rack if they should happen 
to get into a fight. 

"I say, Shorty," he called, "cummere a minnit, quick!'* 

Si's conscience smote him for calling Shorty from his duty 
and leaving the post unguarded, but the voice of the tempter 
was too strong for him to resist, and he determined to 
venture it and trust 
to luck. Shorty came 
on the run, with eyes 
wide open, thinking J 
his comrade had dis-^\S 
covered some rebels j> ^^i 
hanging around. 

"Look there!" said 
Si, pointing to the ma- 
ternal scene that has 
beenarudedto. "Let's 
have some o' that. 
We'll git over the 
fence 'n' you jest hold 
the calf while I milk our canteens full, 
'n a jiffy!" 

"Weortn'ttoleave the post, had we ?" suggested Shorty. 

"Oh, there ain't no danger," Si replied; "V, besides, you 
kin keep lookin' out while you're hangin' onto the calf I 
was alius a good milker, 'n' I'll fill up these canteens in a 
couple o' minnits." 

So they climbed over and leaned their muskets against 
the fence. Shorty seized the calf and held it with a firm 
grip, in spite of its struggling and bleating. The cow seemed 




ROBBING THE CALF. 



'Twon't take more 



372 A DAiv<>EROUS TEMPTER. 

disposed at first to resent the interference, but Si's persua- 
sive "So, bossy ! " proved effectual in calniinj^ her fears, and 
she stood placidly chewing her cud while Si, spurred on by 
a guilty conscience, milked with all his might. 

The canteens were soon filled, and, without stopping to 
drink. Si and Shorty hurried back to their post of duty. 
All was quiet, and no harm had resulted from their brief 
absence. 

"I told ye 'twould be all right," said Si. "Nowwe'll jest 
empty one o' these canteens — here, take a swig — 'n' v^e'U 
carry the other to camp. It'll be jest bully ter have milk in 
our coffee agin ! " 

Then they betook themselves to duty with redoubled 
vigilance, to atone for their derelictions. After watching 
an hour without seeing anything. Si said he would take 
another little turn around the place. 

Boldly advancing to the house, which was some distance 
in front of their post, he was met by agoodlookingyoung 
woman. To Si's ardent imagination she was like a vision 
of surpassing loveliness. She greeted him pleasantly — for 
Si was a comely youth — and if the truth must be told, he 
actually forgot for the moment all about his duty. When 
she said she would get him up a good dinner, and invited 
him into the house to sit while she was preparing it, he 
just went right along. 

But his conscience began to thump so loudly that after a 
few minutes he told her he gtKssed he'd have to go, but 
would be delighted to return in a little while and enjoy her 
hospitality,' 

"May I bring Short^^ — he's my pard — 'long with me?" 
be timidly asked. 

"Certainly!" she replied with a sweet smile; and Si 
went away, his nerves tingling with pleasant emotions. 

"Shorty," he said as he came up to the latter, "I've 
struck it this time. Over to that house there's the purtiest 
gal I ever " 



CAUGHT m THE WEB. 373 

•'Wha-a-a-a-t !" interjected Shorty, with a look of aston- 
ishment; for he knew something about the girl Si had "left 
behind him," and he was surprised at his comrade's trea- 
sonable utterances. 

Si easily divined his thoughts, for something of the same 
nature had already caused his own heart to throb in a re- 
proving way. 

"Of— c-c-course — I d-d-don't mean th-th-that, Shorty," 
he stammered ; "but she's a nice girl, anyhow, 'n' she's git- 
tin' up a dinner fer me 'n' you. Bet ye it'll be a tip-top lay- 
out, too!" 

Shorty did not ^eel quite at ease in his mind about leav* 
ing the post again, but Si assured him it would be all right. 
The peculiar circumstances of the case had sadly warped 
his judgment. 

So they went to the house and were cordially greeted by 
cheir fair voung hostess, who was flying around putting- 
the finishing touches to the meal she had prepared for 
them. 

"Jimin}^ don't that smell good ?" said Si to Shorty in an 
undertone, as his sensitive nostrils caught the savory odors 
that arose from the nicely-spread board. 

The young Hoosiers stood their guns on the floor in a 
corner of the room, preliminary to an assault on the 
edibles. 

"Ugh !" exclaimed the young woman, with a coquettish 
shiver, "be them awful things loaded ?" 

"N-no!" said Si; "they won't hurt ye if ye don't touch 
'em!" 

Si was learning to fib a little, and he wanted to quiet 
her fears. 

The boys were soon seated at the table, bountifully sup- 
plied with ham, chicken, eggs, bread and butter, honey, 
and all the accessories of a well-ordered repast. They fell 
to with an eagerness that was, perhaps, justified by the 



374 



A CLOSE RUB. 



long time that had elapsed since they had eaten a "square 
meal." 

While they were thus engaged, without a thought of im- 
pending danger, the girl suddenly opened the door leading 
into an adjoining room. A young man — who proved to 
be her brother — in the uniform of a rebel officer, dashed in 
and presenting a cocked revolver, demanded their uncon- 
ditional and immediate surrender. 

They were in a tight place. But Si proved equal to the 
sudden and appalling dilemma. It flashed through his 

mind in an instant how 
the girl had "played 
it" on him. He made 
up his mind that he 
w^ould rather be shot 
th an be captured under 
such circumstances. 
He sprang up, and the 
^ rebel, true to his word, 
jj^\) fired. Si dodged, and 
■'^- the ball only chipped 
a piece from his left 
ear. There was not 
time to get and use 
his gun. With the 
quickness of a cat Si 
sprang upon him, and 
with a blow of his fist laid him sprawHng upon the floor. 
Disarming him, he placed the revolver at his head and 
triumphantly exclaimed : 

"Now, gaul durn ye, you're my prisoner. I'd like ter 

blow the top o' yer head off fer spilin' my dinner, but I 

won't do it this time. But you jest git up 'n' come 'long 

w^ith me ! " 

With this complete mastery of the situation. Si's confi- 




THE TABLES TURNED. 



'leg-bail. 



375 



dence returned, and Shorty, wlio had recovered himself, 
came to his assistance. 

But at this instant their ears caught the sound of horses' 
hoofs galloping down the pike. Shorty's quick perception 
told him that it was a. dash of rebel cavalrymen, and that 
a few minutes later escape would be impossible. 

"Grab yer gun an'^/t/" he said. Si cast one ferocious 
glance at the terrified girl, who stood, white and speech- 
less, contemplating the ,^. • 
scene. 






Si and Shorty dashed 
(Ut of the house and 
started for the reserve, 
at the highest speed of 
which their legs were 
capable. On clattered 
the horses, and a few 
shots from the carbines 
of the swift-riding horse- 
men whistled through 
the air. 

Six feet at a jump, 
with thumping hearts 
and bulging eyes, the fu- 
gitives almost flew over 
the ground, throwing:! 
quick glances back at 
their pursuers, and then ahead, in the hope of catching a 
glimpse of succor. 

"Shorty, if we— only git— out o' this—" but Si found he 
hadn't any wind to spare to finish the sentence. The 
reader's imagination must supply the good resolutions as 
to his future conduct that were floating in Si's mind at 
this critical juncture. He saw the awful consequences of 
yielding to the influence of that alluring young woman 
and her seductive dinner. What he had read about Adam 




THE VALUE OF GOOD LEGS. 



376 AN EXCITING RACE. 

and the trouble Eve got him into, in pretty much the same 
way, flashed before him. It was a good time to resolve 
that he wouldn't do so any more. 

Shorty, long and lank, was swifter on his feet than Si. 
Hardtack and bacon had not yet reduced the latter's sur- 
plus flesh to a degree that enabled him to run well. Shorty 
kept ahead, but would not desert his comrade, slowing up 
for an instant now and then to give Si, who was straining 
to the utmost every nerve, and puffing like a locomotive on 
an up grade, a chance to keep within supporting distance. 

The soldiers of the reserve, taking the alarm, came out 
at a double-quick, and were fortunately able to cover the 
retreat of the fugitives. The half dozen cavalrj^men, upon 
the appearance of so large a force, turned their horses and 
galloped away. 

"Hello, Si," said the orderly of Company Q, "yer ear's 
bleedin'. What hurt ye ? " 

"Fell down and scratched it on a brier!" said Si, as soon 
as he was able to speak. 

That night Si and Shorty sat on a log by the campfire, 
talking over the events of the day. 

"Don't ye never blow on this thing," said Si. "It 'd be 
a cold day fer us if they'd find it out." 

"There ain't no danger o' my tellin'," replied Shorty. 
"But, say, ain't that a 'nice' girl out there?" 

"She 's a mean rebel, that 's what she is ! But that was 
a smart trick o' hern, wa'n't it ? " 

"Come mighty near bein' too smart fer us!" replied 
Shorty. "I don't want no more sich close shaves in mine. 
You 'member the story of the spider 'n' the fly, don't ye ? 
Wall, she was the spider 'n' we was two poor little fool 
flies!" 

"Shorty," said Si, "I'd a mighty sight ruther be an an- 
gel 'n' have the daisies a-bloomin' over my grave than to 
ha' been tuk apris'ner in that house. But that dinner was 
good, anyhow — what we got of it ! " 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

Santa Claijs Fails to Connect With Corporal Klegg, Whose Onl^ 
Christmas Present is an Order to March. 

CC T T'S purty nigh Christmas, Shorty," said Si one day 
|_ in December. " Goin' ter hangup yer stockin's ?" 

"Stockin's be bio wed!" replied Shorty. "What's the 
use o' doin' that here ? Old Santa Claus '11 never come 
nigh the army. He's no fool !" 

"I'm 'fraid you're 'bout right!" said Si, sadly. "But I 
seen Pete Jimson this mornin'. You knowed him, didn't 
ye ? He's bin trampin' 'round an' carryin' a musket goin' 
on two years. He told me we'd be all right Christmas, 
anyhow, as the guvyment always gives the soljers a bully 
dinner — roast turkey, 'n' cramberry sass,'n' eyesters, 'n' 
mince pie, 'n' sich. Ye know when the fellers come 'round 
speechifyin' ter git us to jine the army they told us this 
was the best guvyment in the world !" 

"Pete Jimson was only a-stuffin' of ye!" said Shorty, 
with a smile of derision. "Don't ye b'lieve it. Si ; fer I tell 
ye he's foolin' ye ! " 

A shade of sadness crept over Si's face, as the thought 
that what Shorty had said might be true clouded his 
bright visions of a Christmas feast. 

"Wall, I dunno," said he, musingly, "mebbe that's so. 
But me 'n' Pete Jimson used ter go ter Sunday-school to- 
gether, 'n' I wouldn't s'pose he'd lie ter me 'n that way." 

** Ye'U git yer eye-teeth cut arter a while, and then ye'll 

377 



378 A HOME REMEMBRANCE. 

know more 'n ye do now !" said Shorty, with a glance of 
pity at Si for his simplicity. 

"Wonder 'f I'll git so I kin lie like Pete Jimson by the 
time iVe been in the army 's long 's he has?" observed Si. 

"I reckon ye will," answered Shorty; "I guess they all 

does." 

For some time the 200th Indiana had been lying in 
camp. That night the mail brought Si a letter from home. 
His sister Maria wrote that they were filling up a big box 
with lots of good things which they were going to send 
him for Christmas. In the letter was a slip from Annabel, 
telling Si how glad she was to have a chance to send him 
something. She had made another big fruit cake, all her- 
self, for him, and she hoped the mean "grillas" she had heard 
about, whatever they were, wouldn't get it. If she really 
believed they would she'd fill it with "kyen" pepper, or 
"pizen,' or something that would make them w^ish they 
had let it alone. 

Si told Shorty, with a good deal of emotion, about the 
box he was going to get, running over a list of the "good- 
ies " that would be in it, and which he would be so glad to 
share w^ith him. 

"I ain't goin' ter open the box 'fore Christmas momin'," 
said Si, in jojrful anticipation of the dawn of that auspi- 
cious day. 

"I don't much think ye will, myself, " replied Shorty. " I 
'low ye'll be mighty lucky 'f ye git a chance ter open that 
box at all. The grillas gathers in a good deal of that trash, 
and what gits past them is gobbled up by the mule-whack- 
ers." 

But Si had an undying faith that his box would get 
through all right, however disastrous might be the fate of 
others. As Christmas drew near he began to watch for it 
daily. The regiment was camped tw^o or three miles out 
from the city. Si watched every train of wagons that 
brought supplies to the camp, and whenever he got an 



A BOGUS SANTA CLAUS. 379 

Opportunity he sent to town to see if he could get any 
tidings of it. Once or twice he got a "pass" himself, and 
hunted the city over for that box. 

The day before Christmas the brigade to which Si's regi* 
ment belonged was ordered out on a reconnoissance. It 
was a rainy day. The brigade went charging over the 
fields and tearing through the woods and thickets, some- 
times on the double-quick, trying to catch a squad of rebel 
cavalry, and then creeping up to gather in some of the 
enem\^'s pickets. Late in the evening the brigade returned 
to camp. Si thought he had never been so tired before in 
his life. All day his drooping spirits had been cheered by 
the hope of finding his box when he got back. But it had 
not come, and he was inconsolable. * 

"Ef I was 3'ou I wouldn't open yer box 'fore Christmas 
mornin'," said Shorty, as he and Si stood around the 
fire, getting supper. "And what d'ye think now about Pete 
Jimson's turkey 'n' mince-pie? " 

Si didnt say anything. His grief was too deep for utter- 
ance. He didn 't care whether the spangled banner had an^' 
stars left at all or not. Wet. weary, footsore and thor- 
oughly disgusted, he went to bed and \vas soon asleep, 
dreaming of Christmas at home, and mother, and Annabel, 
and turkey-stuffing, and plum-pudding. 

"Hello, Si, wake up here! Merry Christmas to ye! " 

It was Shorty, routing out Si, soon after da3dight. As 
soon as Si opened his eyes he saw his stockings full of some- 
thing or other, pinned to the tent just above his head. He 
Jumped to his feet with as much eagerness as when, in his 
juvenile days, he used to find candy apples and jumping- 
jacks sticking out of his w^ell-filled hose. 

The average army stocking was wonderfully made. A 
new one, after being worn a couple of days, looked more 
like a nose-bag for a mule than anything else. 

Si soon found how the boys had conspired against him^ 
They all knew about the box which he had so anxiously 



380 



THE SAD FATE OF SI S BOX. 



expected, and which none of them beheved he would get,, 
So, after he went to sleep that night, they slyly pulled oflf 
his stockings — for Si slept with them on, as did nine-tenths 
of the soldiers — filled them with wormy hardtack, bacon- 
rinds, beef-bones, sticks, and bits of old harness, pouring 
in beans and rice to fill up the chinks, and pinned them to 
the tent above him. 

The greatest mistake a soldier ever made was to lose 
his temper on account of a harmless joke. Si was wise 
enough to take it good-naturedl}^ as he emptied the "nose- 
bags "* and drew them on his feet. 

It was a raw Decem- 
ber morning, \vith a 
keen, nipping air. As 
Si skirmished around 
for his breakfast he re- 
alized that all his festive 
anticipations of a few 
\ days before were doom- 
ed to utter and irre- 
mediable disappoint- 
^V,ment. 

r<^ ' ' It's tough, fer Christ- 
!mas, ain't it, Shorty?" 
said Si, as he gnawed 
his hardtack. 
If his box would only 
come he might yet be happy, so to speak; but hope had 
given way to despair. 

It was more than four weeks after that time, w^hen the 
debris of the battle had been cleared away, that Si's Christ- 
mas box found its way to the front. Its contents, what 
was left of them, were in a condition to make angels weep. 
The teamsters had pried it open and rioted upon the savory- 
dainties that loving hearts and hands had prepared for Si. 
A small section of Annabel's cake w^as left, and the rava- 




CHRISTMAS MORNING. 



MARCHING ORDERS ONCE MORE. 



381 



gers, with a refinement of cruelty, had written on the paper 
wrapped around it : 
" This is bully cake. Try it !" 

Almost everj'thing in the box had been eaten, and what 
remained was a hopeless ruin. Rough handling, that 
would have done credit to a railroad baggage-master, had 
broken bottles of pickles and jars of fruit, and the liquids 
had thoroughly baptized the edibles that the mule drivers 
had spared. It was a sorry mess, and Si's heart ached as 
he gazed upon the wreck. 

The forenoon of Christmas day was dull enough. The 
boys were let off from drill, 
and spent the time chiefly 
in writing letters and chas- 
ing the pensive pediculus. 

Soon after noon the ser- 
geant-major of the 200th 
was seen rushing along the 
line of the officers' tents' 
with orders. He had the^ 
air of a man who bore,^^^ 
important tidings. In a 
few minutes it was known ~ 
through the camp that the 
commanding general had 
issued orders for an ad- '^^^ ^^'^^ o^ ^^'^ ^<^^- 

vance, and the army was to be ready to move at daylight 
next morning. Tents, wagons, and everything that 
men did not choose to carry on their backs were to be left 
behind. 

"Wonder 'f we're goin' ter have a fight this time?" Si 
said, with some solicitude. 

"Looks that Avay!" replied Shorty, 

The quiet of the morning was followed by the bustle and 
confusion of getting ready to move. There was hurrying 
to and fro. Feet and hands and tongues were busy. The 




3S2 A BUSY CHRISTMAS. 

officers made the usual fuss, and kept everybody in a stew. 
The orderly sergeants had their hands full, as they always 
did at such times. There ^vere "rations to be drawn and 
issued — for the men were to march with full haversacks; 
cartridge-boxes to be inspected and replenished; the sick 
to be sent to hospitals in the city ; needed articles of cloth- 
ing to be supplied ; all camp equipage and personal bag- 
gage to be packed and sent back; frequent details of men 
to be made for this, that and the other duty ; and all the 
numberless things that appertained to the beginning of a 
campaign. 

So it was that during that Christmas afternoon and 
evening fifty thousand men were busily engaged in prepara- 
tion. While he was hustling around Si thought how dif- 
ferent it was from all his previous Christmases, and even 
from the one he had hoped to have this time. But he was 
fast learning to be a good soldier and take things as they 
came. 

It was late that night when the work was finished. 
Then the soldiers wrapped themselves in their blankets to 
get a few hours of sleep before the reveille should awaken 
them for the march to battle. 

This was the way Si Klegg and all the other soldiers of 
that army spent that Christmas, Si managed, as did 
most of the others, to snatch a few minutes to write a 
brief letter or two. A great mail started northward the 
next day. Many a poor fellow never wrote again. 

The soldiers did not suffer during the night from the 
gripings of indigestion, in consequence of having over- 
loaded their stomachs with turkey and mince-pie. It is 
unquestionably true that their abstinence from these time- 
honored accessories of the festive day was not vol- 
untary, but was due to circumstances over which they had 
no control. While nightmares were prancing around upon 
the prostrate forms of their friends at home, the soldiers 



OMINOUS PREPARATIONS. 383 

quietly slept, wrapped- in army blankets, in their camps 
that fringed the far-off southern city. 

Nor did they sleep any the less soundly because they 
were under orders to march. At four o'clock they must 
spring at sound of bugle and at daylight the foremost bat- 
talions must file out upon the roads leading southward. 
The army was soon to look into the very eye of its an- 
tagonist, and engage it in deadly conflict. 

All the arrangements for an active campaign of a great 
army had been carefully made. The troops were thor- 
oughly equipped and provisioned. Longtrains of wagons 
loaded wi-th ammunition of all kinds, for infantry, cavalry 
and artillery, gave unerring indication of important events 
in the near future. The presumption that the enemy would 
be equally, or at least sufficiently, well provided in this 
respect was shown by the suggestive array of ambulances, 
stretchers, medical stores and hospital supplies. Surgeons 
were summoned to their regiments, and put their instru- 
ments in order for the ghastly work before them. All who 
could not march and fight or be otherwise useful were left 
behind, the army being stripped of everything that could 
impede its movements or impair its efficiency. 

A day or two before this. Corporal Klegg, while walking 
just outside the camp, saw an enterprising idiot nailing a 
large placard to a tree. He naturally stopped and read it. 
It bore this legend: 



EMBALMING THE DEAD 

AT LOWEST RATES. 
BODIES CAREFULLY PRESERVED AND SHIPPED NORTH, 

Satisfaction Guaranteed— Caskets a Specialty. 
Coffin & Graves, Undertakers. 



384 



A COMFORTING ADVERTISEMENT. 



Si read this gratifying announcement two or three times, 
as if to catch its full meaning, and then turned away with 
a low whistle. The man — who wore crape on his hat and 
looked like the head of a funeral procession — had gathered 
up his roll of hand-bills and was starting for another tree 
when Si addressed him : 

"Say, Mister, who is it 3'er guarantees satisfaction to — 
the corpse ? 'Cause ef yer kin make him feel satisfied 'n' 
comf 'table-like it'll be a fust-rate thing." 

"Young man," said 
fl/ifA''^'', the undertaker, " this 
is a serious business, 
and your levity is un- 
seemly." And he went 
on to explain to Si his 
beautiful system of em- 
balming, as if he thought- 
he had succeeded in rob- 
bing death of half its ter- 
rors. But Si had never 
for a moment imagined 
that he was going to be 
killed, and the remarks 
of the melancholy man 
did not make the im- 
pression upon him that 
might have been ex- 
pected. 

"Mebbe ef ye'd git yer gun 'n' come 'long with us," he 
said, "ye might have a chance ter find out yerself how yer 
embamin' works, 'n' what sort o' satisfaction a man feels 
when he's all fixed." 

"I would advise you to read these," was the solemn 
reply ; and the man handed Si a package of tracts. 
"I'll hand 'em 'round ter the bo^^s," replied Si. 
The 200th Indiana had passed through the fir^t stage 




A CHEERFUL LEGEND. 



HOW THEY FELT ABOUT IT. 385 

of army life and experience, with tlie result common to all 
regiments. A lew months of active campaigning, without 
decimation by battle, always weeded out the two classes 
of those who were but an incumbrance to an army. There 
were the men of whom it might be said the spirit was will- 
ing but the flesh was weak. Thej'' were ready to do and 
dare, but physically unable to endure the fatigues and 
hardships of the service. The other class was composed 
of those who could march and eat well enough, but were 
deficient in "sand." Ever^'- company had such men at 
first, but they did not stay long. This inevitable shrink- 
age had left the 200th with five hundred or six hundred 
soldiers — men who were to fight its battles and follow its 
flag. 

The prospect of meeting the enemy had a varying effect 
upon the soldiers. Many of those who at that time were 
entitled to be called veterans had already breasted the 
storm of battle. The ardor begotten of a desire to engage 
for the first time in the deadly fray, and to hear the whist- 
ling of bullets, the bursting of shells, and the awful roar 
of conflict, had given place to a courage far more enduring. 
The truly brave man was not the one who rushed into 
battle "like the unthinking horse," but rather he who 
knew and appreciated the danger, and yet, at the call of 
dut}', stood willingly face to face with death. This was the 
feeling that pervaded the older regiments as they girded 
themselves for the trial that was before them. 

The bulging patriotism of the new troops manifested 
itself in the usual way. All the blood-curdling pictures of 
slaughter the\' had ever seen, and the harrownng tales told 
b}' their veteran comrades on the march and around the 
camp-fire, could not stanch the overflow of their bubbling 
zeal. Most of them could be satisfied with nothing but 
an opportunity to charge up to the very muzzles of belch- 
ing batteries, and to plunge their 3'et unstained bayonets 
into the quivering bodies of the foe. This frantic desire 



386 ANNIHILATION — BY FIGURES. 

melted away when their eyes and ears had been once 
shocked by the sights and sounds of battle. Their silence 
on this t^abjedl ever after was oppressive. 

Corporal Klegg and Shorty were typical representa* 
lives of two extreme phases of feeling. Si was in that 
condition sometimes described as "spoiling for a fight." 
In imagination he saw the whole country moved with admi- 
ration for the heroic deeds of Corporal Klegg, and it was 
with a feeling of glad and impatient expectancy that he 
awaited the long-delayed clash of arms. 

Shorty took a more conservative view of the matter. 
He was some years older than Si and had lost the exuber- 
ance of youth. Prosy and calculating, with an eye to the 
results that were likely to follow, he was not dazzled by 
the splendor of martial glory. He was no more a coward 
than Si. His " pard " v/ould alw^ays find him at his elbow, 
whatever of danger might betide, but he did not pant for 
it as Si did. 

The prevailing idea among the members of the 200th 
Indiana was that if the rebel general only knew that their 
regiment was coming he would be wise and give up with- 
out a fight. They hoped, however, that he wouldn't hear 
of it, because they wanted to annihilate his army and end 
the war. 

"Seems to me," said Si, as he was talking it over with 
Shorty, "we ought ter use 'em up purty qtiick. I ain't 
much on figgerin', but I've worked it out 'n this way: 
We've got a hunderd rounds o' catridges apiece. There's 
'bout six hunderd on us, and that'll make sixty thousand 
catridges. I reck'n the rebs '11 be so thick 't we kin hit a 
man every crack. We kin load 'n fire once every two 
minits, easy 'nuff, 'n' 'twon't take us more 'n three hours 
er so to kill off the hull army. I can't see why the 200th 
I njianny hadn't orter cook their goose fer 'em." 

"What dye s'pose the rebs '11 be doin' all that time?" 
said Shorty. "D'ye think they're goin' ter stan' there like 



OFF TO THE FRONT. 387 

SO many rows o' wooden men 'n' let us shoot 'em down 'n 
their tracks ? Ye don't want ter fergit 't they've got guns, 
too, 'n' they know how to use 'em jest 's well 's we do.'' 

Si really had not thought of this. He saw the force of 
Shorty's suggestion, however, and that it would be nec- 
essary for him to revise his calculation. 

"Wall, I don't care how ye fix it," he said, "we're goin' 
ter lick 'em, anyhow ! The 200th Injianny 's goin' to walk 
right inter that town there, and we're goin' ter plant the 
fust flag on the court-house." 

"I hope ye're right," said Shorty, "but ye can't some- 
times tell. We'll know more "bout it arter the racket 's all 
over." 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

The 200th Indiana Marches to Battle, and Si Klegg Experiences 
THE Thrilling Emotions that Precede the Conflict. 

FAR and near sounded the reveille through the camps 
of a hundred regiments, that covered field and hill- 
side. It was two hours before dawn, but by the dancing 
light of the fires the final preparations for the advance 
were made. Every officer and man was busy. There was 
no time for loitering or for sentimental meditation . Horse- 
men dashed hither and thither with orders, and men sprang 
at the word, in willing and prompt obedience. All bag- 
gage and equipage were loaded upon wagons and sent to 
the rear. At the appointed hour the "assembly" was 
sounded. Companies, and then regiments and brigades, 
were quickU^ formed. The men carried full haversacks and 
cartridge-boxes, with sixty additional rounds per man in 
their pockets. Nearly all chose to be unincumbered bv 



38S 



AT THEIR OLD TRICKS. 



their knapsacks, and left them with the baggage train. 
Each man had his overcoat and blanket rolled up with the 
ends tied together like a great doughnut, and thrown over 
his shoulder. The bugles sounded "Forward," and the 
long columns, with swinging step, filed out upon the roads 
and stretched away to the southward. 

The seasoned veterans of '61 still availed themselves of 
every opportunity to "nag" the recent levies. Troops 

were always "new" until 
they had been through a 
battle, and by good be- 
havior earned the right to 
be called soldiers. Then 
the good-natured jest and 
gibe were heard no more. 

As the 200th Indiana 
filed past one of the old 
regiments it received the 
inevitable fusillade: 

" Hey, 3'ou paper-collar 
Hoosiers ; had ter leave 
yer trunks behind, didn't 




ye 



?" 



READY FOR BUSINESS. 



" Ben measured fer yer 
coff 'ns \'et ? " 

" They won't none on 
'em git killed ; can't git 
'em up close enough I " 
"How they'll climb fer the rear 's soon 's the bullets be- 
gins ter zip!" 

Si Kleggfelt his angry passions rise at these imputations 
upon their valor. He would have resented them then and 
there had he not a vivid remembrance of his experience 
upon former occasions, under circumstances somewhat 
similar. So he bottled his wrath and kept his eyes fixed on 
his file-leader. He comforted himself with the thought that 



PUSHING FORWARD. 



389 



sometime he would be a veteran, and otlier new troops 
would appear in the field. He would square the account 
by taking out his revenge ujDon them. 

The advance occupied three or four days. Much of the 
time the weather was wet, raw and dismal. Iliere was 
no trouble in finding the enemy. He made himself consjDic- 
uously obnoxious day and night, stubbornly yielding to 
the pressure of the long lines of blue, and falling back from 
one position to another. 

It was one of those jerky, exasperating marches that put 
the temper and patience -^ 

of the men to the ex- /'(/Y^l.l.' ■ 
tremetest. On the pikes \-^tlfi////Vc-' • 
the columns advanced 
and halted alternately, 
reaching out a little 
way and then gather- 
ing themselves up, inch- 
ing along like huge 
worms. The men, 
wet and weary, stood 
around and shivered in 
the cliilling air. An 
occasional cannon shot 
or a sputtering fire of 
musketry kept all on _ 

the alert. they stop for nothing. 

Between these columns the stretches of field and wood 
were swept by heavy lines of skirmishers, supported by 
brigades and divisions moving in battle array. These 
forded streams and plunged through dripping thickets, 
throwing down the fences that stood in their way. Now 
and then, when the enemy grew saucy and did not seem 
disposed to take a hint, there would be a dash, a A^ell, and 
a scamper. 

In this way passed the days of holiday week. The 




890 SI STILL IMPATIENT. 

nights were spent in abortive attempts to sleep, lying upon 
the muddy ground, with sodden clothes and blankets, or 
dozing around the feeble fires, half-blinded by smoke. 
Strong picket-lines extended entirely around the army, and 
watchful eyes kept vigil through the slowly-dragging 
hours. More than once each night straggling shots were 
heard, and instantly all the soldiers in that vast bivouac 
seized their arms and sprang into line. 

The 200th Indiana had its full share of duty in all its 
diversified forms. Si and Shorty, with soaked and muddy 
garments, and hands and faces begrimed with smoke and 
dirt, were always at their post, and in the front when the 
regiment had the advance. The occasional whiz of a bullet 
or the bursting of a shell contributed a sufficient flavor of 
danger to keep Si in a state of effervescent excitement. 

"If them raskils 'd only quit runnin' 'n' give us a fa'r 
stan'-up fight!" he exclaimed, asthe200tli dashed through 
a piece of woods, only to see the gray troopers galloping 
in the distance. 

"Don't be in a stew, Si, 's I've told ye before, "said Shorty. 
"I don't b'lieve ye'll have ter wait much longer 'fore ye'll 
git 's much 's ye kin hold. Them Johnnies is only fallin' 
back to jine the main army, and we're goin'ter bump agin 
suthin solid purty quick. Now you mind what I'm a-tellin' 
ye, 'n' jest hold yerself level, fer ye're goin' to have all the 
fightin' ye want this trip !" 

But it was difficult for Si to restrain his impatience. The 
forward movement of the army w^as all too slow for him. 
His heart beat high with ambitious expectation, undis- 
turbed by a thought of the danger and the awful scenes 
that were soon to destroy the bright illusion. 

After days of creeping along and picketing and skirmish- 
ing, the army struck "something solid," as Shorty had 
predicted. Then another day was occupied in making the 
necessary dispositions for battle. Arms were cleaned and 
put in order. Cai'tridges w^ere carefully inspected, and 



GETTING READY FOR THE FIGHT. 



391 



-/ 



<C.M1 






such as had become wet and unserviceable were castaway 
and replaced by others. Batteries were put in position, 
with the chests of limbers and caissons filled with powder, 
ball and fixed ammunition in all the various forms of 
o-rape, canister and shell. Hospitals were established in 
the rear; musicians and other non-combatants were de- 
tailed to bear the stretchers, attend the ambtilances, and 
otherwise assist in the w^ork of caring for the wounded ; 
medical stores were unpacked, and medicines, instruments 
and countless rolls of bandages placed at hand for use. 
Provision trains w^ere 
brought up and ra- 
tions issued to the sol- 
diers. None could tell 
how man^^ days would - 
elapse before their hav- ' 
ersacks might again be 
filled. The troops rest- 
ed quietly in line of 
battle in their desig- 
nated positions, calmly 
awaiting the storm 
which was to burst 
on the following day. 
There lives no man 
whose heart would not 
at such a time beat 
with hope and anx- 
ious fear. 

The 200th Indiana spent the da\^ on picket, Company Q 
occupying the extreme outposts at an exposed point. All 
the rail fences in the vicinity were quickh' converted into 
little V-shaped barricades, behind each of which two or 
three men were stationed. These were a partial protec- 
tion against musket balls, but none whatever against 
artiller3^ 




BEHIVD THE RAILS. 



392 A CONFEDERATE "FEELER." 

Within one of these frail shelters lay Corporal Kleggand 
Short}^ watching the enemy on the hills a mile away. 
Bager and alert, they lay hour after hour, with ready mus- 
kets, intent upon the duty assigned them. 

Si was less talkative than usual. He was, no doubt, 
just as anxious as ever for a fight, but he did not have so 
much to say about it. In fact he didn't say anything. 
Matters had begun to look serious, and beseemed quite con- 
tent now to let them take their course, without an^' desire 
to crowd them. There w^as now and then an exchange of 
«hots, although the distance rendered them harmless. 

But along in the afternoon something came from the 
other side that did reach. A rebel battery could plainly be 
seen on a high piece of ground far to the front, but up to 
that time it had remained quiet. At last the cannoneers 
thought they would send over a "'feeler." There was a 
belching of smoke, a boom and the shrill scream of a flying 
shell. Si's heart leaped into his throat as it came nearer 
and nearer with its affrighting sound. Its flight occupied 
only a few seconds, but it seemed to Si that it lasted till 
sometime in the next week. 

The well-timed missile struck almost at the apex of the 
V and instantly exploded, tearing up the ground, shatter- 
ing the rails into kindling wood, and sending the fragments 
flying in every direction. For a moment Si and his com- 
rade were paralyzed by the noise and shock of the ex- 
plosion. A shower of earth and splinters fell upon them, 
but they received no serious injury. The\^ escaped in the 
same unaccountable way as did thousands of others from 
peril equally great. 

But the tmabridged dictionary does not supply any 
words that can adequately express the degree of panicky 
demoralization that for the moment took entire possession 
of Si and Shorty. Both of them together did not have 
sand enough left to stock the digestive apparatus of a 
chicken. Alany will recall similar moments during the 



A PARDONABLE PANIC, 



3L»3 



experience of those years. The writer enters a plea ol 
guilty for himself on more than one occasion. 

Ninety-nine men in every hundred would have done just 
as our Hoosier friends did. True, with the bursting of the 
shell and the harmless dissipation of the fragments, the 
danger was over, but without stopping to reason this <)ut 
they acted upon the natural impulse to get away from 
there immediately, country or no country, and the}^ did, 
Si soon came to himself, and when he realized that he 
was actually scared 
and running away, he 
stopped. He knew 
that would never do 
for the " model sol- 
dier " of the 200th 
Indiana. 

" Now, Corporal 
Klefjo:, " he said to 

OC5' 

himself, "d'ye know 
ye 're jest makin' the 
biggest kind of a fool 
o' 3'erself ? If ye gits 
.skeered this way fer 
only one o' them 'ere 
shells, %vhat'll 3^e do 
in a big fight w^hen 
the air 's thick with 




em 



p •» 



A HASTY EVACUATION. 

"Hold on. Short}',"' he shouted. "It's all over now ' i' 
there ain't nobody hurt. Let's go back! I don't b lieve 
'nuther o' them durned things '11 hit that j^lace, no more'n 
lightnin' strikes twice 'n the same spot." 

" Course we will,' replied Shorty, but his voice quivered 
a little. "It didn't sheer me any. I jest come 'long with yg 
ter keep ye f 'm fallin' back too fur." 



394- THE NIGHT BEFORE THE BATTLE. 

Si did not question Shorty's assertion, but he wondered 
if his comrade had exactly told the truth. 

So they went back, rebuilt their barricade as well as they 
could with the fragments, and resumed their watch. But 
it was a long time before Si's ears ceased to ring and his 
heart to thump against his blouse. 

In the evening the 200th was relieved by another regi- 
ment, and ordered back in rear of the main line to cook 
supper. Just before leaving the post Shorty gathered up 
an armful of the splinters that were h^ing upon the ground. 

"What ye goin' to do with them?'' asked Si. 

"Take 'em back to make a fire with," replied Shorty. 
"Them chaps over yonder done a sort o' good turn fer us 
arter all!'' 

Darkness settled down upon the two armies that la^^ so 
near, each having accepted the other's challenge to mortal 
combat. Every man was intent upon what the morrow 
would bring forth. 

The veteran soldiers had learned to give themselves over 
to rest and sleep under any and all circumstances, \vith 
little thought for the future. Few of the new troops on 
the eve of such a momentous struggle, amid the excitement 
of the hour, were able to calm their thoughts so that 
slumber came to their eyelids. Under orders to leap to 
their feet at the slightest alarm, the men threw themselves 
down without removing their shoes or even unclasping 
their cartridge-belts. Each had his musket beside him, 
and lay with ears strained to catch the smallest sound of 
danger. 

The night was cold. There was a keen and biting air, 
and a covering of white frost spread itself over the blank- 
ets, as the soldiers lay upon the ground, with nothing be- 
tween them and the stars above that winked responsive 
to their wakeful eyes. 

Shorty would probably have slept fairly well if his 
"pard''' had permitted him to do so. But Si fidgeted and 



si's wakefulness. 395 

shivered with the cold, turned from side to side, and kept 
pulling off the blanket from his dozing comrade. 

"Wish ye'd lie still 'n' let a feller sleep! "growled Shorty. 
" Ye'll have 'nuff to do termorrer 'n' ye better keep quiet 
while ye've got a chance !" 

"Td like ter do it, pard," said Si, "jest ter 'commodate 
ye ; but I'm thinkin' ''bout the fight we're poing to have, 
'n' 'bout mother 'n' sister Marier 'n' all the rest o' the 
folks. I jest can't help it, Shorty !' 

"Ain't weakenin', ar' ye, Si?"" 

"Not by a jug-full. I ain't goin' ter do any braggin', 
but I tell ye I 11 jest die 'n my tracks 'fore I'll show the 
white feather. That shell bustin' under the rails today 
would ha' skeered old Gin'ral Jackson hisself for a minnit, 
but ye know it didn't take us long ter git over it. I'm 
girtin' myself braced up big fer what's comin'." 

"Wall," said Shorty, "you jest keep on bracin' yerself 
up while I git 'nother little cat-nap." 

Shorty dropped off into another doze while Si lay with 
his eyes wide open, looking up at the stars, and wonder- 
ing how he would act when he got into the battle. He 
felt that he had little to fear, provided he did not lose con- 
trol of himself Hitherto he had never imagined a bullet 
was going to hit him, but now that he w^as brought face 
to face with the dread reality, he could not help wonder- 
ing if he would be killed or \vounded; and then how badly 
his mother and Annabel would feel. He thought, too, of 
Shorty, and wondered if he would get through all right. 
He would almost as soon be hit himself as to lose Shorty. 
Then Si thought of all his past life, and hoped he hadn't 
been very wicked. He ran over in his mind some of the 
scripture verses he had learned in Sunday school when a 
lad, and even repeated the "Now I lay me," just to see if 
he had forgotten it. He promised himself that if he got 
out of this fight he would never crawl under the sutler's 
tent again, nor steal anything from the colonel's mess- 



396 "wake up, men!" 

chest, nor play chuck-a-luck, nor swear. As to the last he 
could not avoid a mental reservation, in case he was de- 
tailed again to drive a mule team. As he lay thinking 
over all these things, the crack of a musket on the picket- 
line rang out sharply in the clear night air. 

"D'ye hear that. Shorty?" he said, as he nudged his 
comrade with his elbow. 

Si and Shorty seized their guns and leaped to their feet. 
Whole battalions arose as if by magic, and in a moment 
were standing in serried lines. It was a false alarm, and 
after a time the soldiers lay down again to wait for the 
morn. 

It was a weary night to Si. His thoughts would have 
filled a volume. He longed for the day, although his feel- 
ings were not unmingled with a dread of what that day 
must bring to many, and perhaps to him. He wanted the 
battle to come on, and yet he would be glad wdien it was 
over. 

Long before the dull, gray dawn of that December morn- 
ing the orderly of Company Q passed quietly along the 
line, here and there touching a prostrate form, and utter- 
ing v^ords of command in those low, suppressed tones 
that always awakened the soundest sleeper. 

"Wake up, men ! Fall in promptly !" 

There was no blast of bugle or twang of drum, for the 
solid and alert battalions of the enemy lay but a short 
distance aw^ay. They, too, were astir betimes, for each 
army was preparing to spring like a tiger upon the other. 

When the orderly aroused the company Si and Shorty 
were quick to obey the summons. Rolling up their blankets 
they threw them over their shoulders, took their places in 
line, and were ready for the duties before them, whatever 
they might be. Until daylight the regiment stood in battle 
array. To the right and left in long lines, stretched regi- 
ments and brigades and divisions. Batteries were in 
position, with every man at his post. Cavalrymen and 



THE STORM BURSTS. 397 

general officers and their staffs stood beside their saddled 
houses, ready to spring into their seats. 

At length the darkness melted awa}' and the dawn 
appeared. , When it was fairly light the soldiers were allowed 
to break ranks and partake of a hasty breakfast. Orderlies 
and staff officers galloped hither and thither with orders 
for the movement soon to begin. Few of the men were 
able to procure the luxury of a cup of coffee, for the time 
was short and the command to fall in was momentarily 
expected. Details were sent to fill the canteenSwith water. 
This would be needed, and no other opportunity might be 
afforded. 

Si and Shorty, sitting upon the ground with all their 
equipments on, ate with a keen relish their hardtack and 
uncooked bacon. Si's heart beat with anxious expecta- 
tion when he heard now and then a distant shot, and saw 
on every hand the constantly increasing activity in the 
work of getting ready for battle. 

"Wonder which side 's goin' ter pitch in first?" he said 
to Shorty. 

"Dunno nothin' 'bout it,'' was the reply. "The ossifers 
don't tell them 't carries the muskets what they're goin' 
ter do. We jest have ter 'bey orders 'n' trust ter luck. 
Looks 'sif the gin'rals was each on 'emstan'in' with a chip 
on his shoulder, 'n' a-darin' t'other to knock it off!" 

One of the chips was soon knocked off, and it was the 
rebels that did it. W^hile the dispositions were being made 
for an attack by the Union arm}', the storm burst with the 
suddenness of athunderbolt. From the thick cedars away 
to the right there came the loud boom of artillery and the 
" long roll " of musketr)' volleys. Louder and louder 
grew the noise of battle, as the attack extended along the 
line. 

"That's the music 3^e've been so might}^ anxious to hear," 
said Shorty to Corporal Klegg, as the 200th Indiana stood 
awaiting orders to go in. " How d'ye like it ?" 



398 A CONFLICT OF EMOTIONS. 

"I hain't got the hang o' the tune yet," repHed Si; "tell 
ye better arter a while." 

As he listened to that terrible roar — that no man who 
has heard it can ever forget — Si clenched his teeth and 
seized his musket with a firmer grip. His cheek lost for 
the time some of its ruddy glow, and it must not be put 
down to his discredit if his fingers were a little shakv. He 
struggled hard to conceal all symptoms of weakness. He 
was afraid Shorty and the rest of the bo3'S would see his 
trembling hands and hear the beating of his heart. 

But although Si did not realize the fact, he was secure from 
observation. Like himself, each of his comrades was oc- 
cupied with his own thoughts and feelings, without be- 
stowing any attention upon the mental or physical 
sensations of anybod}^ else. 

Si was determined to be, and he was, brave. The 
blanched cheek and quivering limbs -were not signs of 
cowardice. At that moment he would have charged upon 
a line of bristling bayonets, or leaped over the parapet of 
a hostile fort, into the very smoke and fire of the enemy's 
guns. He was simply going through the struggle, that 
every soldier experienced, between his mental and physical 
natures. The instinct of the latter at such a time — and 
w^hat old soldier does not know it ? — was to seek a place 
of safety, without a moment's delay. To fully subdue this 
feeling by the power of the will was not, in most cases, as 
easv a matter as might be imagined by those who have 
never been called upon to "face the music." Some there 
were who never could do it. 

Shorty, older and less excitable by nature, took things 
rather more coolly than Si. Although he had never seen a 
battle, he had heard and thought enough about it to 
have a tolerably definite idea of its character, and was 
therefore, in a measure prepared for it, now that it was 
about to become a reality to him. Si had never gone as 
far as that. He knew in a general way that in a great 



TRYING MOMENTS. 399 

battle many men were killed, and many more were wounded, 
but he thought only of the excitement, and the glory of 
heroic deeds for his country. He had enlisted to be a sol- 
dier, and considered it essential that he must do some 
fighting. If his imagination had ever drawn the picture 
at all, it fell far short of the actual scene, as he was soon 
to view it. 

At this time SI was passing through the mosttr\-ing mo- 
ments of a soldier's life. Standing in his place, holding his 
musket In a tightening grasp, listening to the sound of 
battle that came nearer and nearer, looking at the smoke 
that circled above the trees, he awaited, with a suspense 
that language cannot portray-, the word of command for 
the 200th Indiana to eno^ag^e the enemy. 

The volley that reaps its ghastly harvest, the charge 
amidst shouts of wdld excitement, the desperate struggle 
of brave men — these, when every nerve and fiber of mind 
and bod\^ Is strung to its utmost tension, bring no such 
crucial trial as the throbbing emotions that Immediately 
precede the jlash of arms. 

To Si and Shorty it was no occasion for hilarity. As 
months and years passed, and they became accustomed to 
such scenes, they would learn to be cheerful and even mirth- 
ful, on occasion, in the presence of death In its most hid- 
eous forms, but not now. These w^ere solemn moments, 
whefi the wonted sound of laughter w^as hushed, and It 
seemed a jest would be sacrilege. 

Was it for lack of manliness that Si wiped a tear or 
two from his cheek ? Let him who would answer j'-ea, first 
bv, sure that his own eyes w^ould not moisten at such a 
time, as there sweeps through his mind the rushing tide of 
hopes and fears and patriotic devotion and thoughts of 
life and far-off loved ones. The brave man has a true and 
tender heart. Tears are neither cowardly nor unmanlv. 

"Shorty,"' said SI — and his voice was low and tremu- 
lous — "I b'lieve in the good Lord 't mother used ter teach 



400 



ORDERED IN. 



me ter pray to. I'm afeard 3^ou 'n' me has kinder lost 
our ^rlp on such things, 'n' don't desarve very much, but 
mebbe He'll be good to both on us today. I hope He'll 
give us lots of sand to stand up to 't ; I keer more 'bout 
that 'n I do 'bout the other. I'm willin ter die — 'f I have 
to— but I don'twant ter be no coward. Ef ye see me with 
my back to the rebs ye'll do me the biggest kind of a favor 
by jest puttin' a bullet through my head. And, Shorty, 

ifls/jon/J be killed, V 
/ ^ ■ , V ^ /' you git home all right, 

you'll tell mother that 
I didn't-" 

A staff officer comes 
galloping up and de- 
livers a hasty message 
to the colonel of the 
200th. " There ! " he 
says, indicating v^ith 
outstretched arm the 
point where the com- 
'/ bat seems to be rag- 
1^ ing with the greatest 
f|^ fury. Every man in 
the ranks knows what 
that order is, and in- 
stinctively straightens 
up. Every face bears 
the impress of determination to obey the call of duty. The 
colonel springs into the saddle and his words rin^^ out 
sharp and clear : 

" Attention— Battalion !" 

The order is scarcely necessary, for the soldiers have 
already dressed the line and stand with the magic touch 
of elbows, waiting for the next command. 
"Load at will — Load ! ' 
Hands fly to cartridge-boxes, teeth tear away the paper, 




AT THE EDGE OF THE STORM. 401 

powder and ball are charged into the muzzles. See the 
rammers leap from their sockets, and how they ring as 
the bullets are rammed home! Back to their places go 
the rammers, and caps are put upon the nipples. All this 
is but the work of a moment. The regiment is readv to 
m.eet the enemy. 

While the men are loading the colonel rides aiong tne 
line, uttering words of encouragement and cheer. He tells 
them that he knows every man will do his duty, and that 
the flag of the 200th Indiana will come out unstained, ex- 
cept by the blood, if need be, of its defenders. The men 
shout in response. 

Already the tremor of hands is gone. The pallor of face 
has given wa}^ to the flush of excitement. E^^es are kind- 
ling with animation. 

" Battalion ! Shoulder — Arms ! Right — Face ! Right 
shoulder shift — Arms ! Forward — Double-quick — March !" 

The colonel plunges his spurs into the flanks of his horse 
and dashes ahead. The soldiers follow on the run. On 
and on they go, toward those historic cedars upon the 
right, where the enemy delivered his well-nigh fatal stroke. 
On, through the wild confusion that always reigns supreme 
in the rear of an army staggering under such a blow. 

Still on goes the 200th, threading its way through the 
struggling mass of teams smarting under the lash of j'ell- 
ing, half-crazed drivers ; horsemen vainly striving to bring 
order out of chaos ; and demoralized stragglers who have 
fled or become detached from their regiments and are seek- 
ing personal safety at the rear. 

Ah ! here are ambulances freighted with the mangled and 
dying. Others are being borne from the field upon stretchers. 
The men of the 200th have never looked on such scenes 
before. They gaze upon the pallid faces and bleeding forms 
of war's victims. There is an involuntary shudder, and 
a shrinking from the agonizing spectacle. But it is only 
for an instant, and they press forward. 



402 



WOUNDED STREAM TO THE REAR. 



Hurrying past them go hundreds of brave men with 
l^lood streaming from their faces, or flowing from pierced 
limbs and bodies, but yet able to make their way to the 
rear in quest of aid to stanch their wounds. How tenderly 
they help one another in their hour of need. See that 
Boldier Avith an arm hanging broken and helpless, support- 
ing with the other a comrade who hobbles with a shattered 
leg. Here is another, Hmping painfully, but leading care- 
fully along one whom blood and grime and smoke have 
for the time made sightless. 

With' what glad shouts of welcome these maimed and 




INTO THE BATTLE. 



bleeding heroes, whose breasts are yet heaving with the 
emotions of the conflict, greet the fresh, stalwart men of 
the 200th, pushing toward the front ! 

"How's it goin' ?" asks Si Klegg of one of them. 

"Its mighty hot in there !" is the reply, " The boys are 
hangin' on, but they need ye bad. The woods is full o' 
Johnnies, but we're goin' to whip 'em!" 

'*Go for 'em!" shouts another, "Give 'em the best ye' ve 
j,;ot. 

Si is beginning to pant for breath, from the long double- 
quick, but he had rather a cannon-ball would take off his 



NOW THE DEADLY MISSILES. 



403 



head than tiiat he should appear a laggard. Straining 
every nerve he keeps his place in the eager rush of the 
200th to succor the reeling line. 

On and yet on ! The rattle of musketry becomes more 
and more distinct. They begin to smell the smoke of 
battle. A shell comes screaming through the air and bursts 
over the hurrying column. The fragments hurtle on every 
side. The droning buzz of well-spent bullets is heard. 

"Steady, men! Steady!" exclaim the officers. 

The\^ have just reach- 
ed the edge of the awful 
storm.. They begin to 
see the bodies of the 
dead, hang torn and 
mangled, upon the 
ground. They instinct- 
ively turn their eyes 
away, appalled at the 
sight. 

It requires little effort 
to display magnificent 
courage a hundred miles 
away from the scene of 
carnage, wHh, perhaps, 
no prospect that the dis- 
tance will ever be less- 
ened between the battle- 

lield and him who talks " steady, mex 

so grandly of capturing batteries and sweeping away the 
blazing battaHons of the foe. It is a very different thing 
when a man is brought face to face with the question of 
keeping his feet from turning around and pointing the 
wrong wav, as he moves into the vortex of death, amidst 
the deafening roar of conflict, while swift and deadly 
missiles fill the air, and the bodies of his fast-falling co ab- 
rades thickly strew the ground. 




404 THE FALL OF A COMRADE. 

Still on, and the bullets begin their fatal work. Now, 
Corporal Klegg, we shall see what kind of stuff you are 
made of ! 



CHAPTER XXX. 

Si and Shorty are Tried in the Fire and Prove to be Pure Gold 

NOW the 200th Indiana changes from its movement by 
the flank. Still on the double-quick the regiment 
forms in battle array. There is a momentary pause to 
dress the line, and then it moves rapidly but steadily for- 
ward. Every eye is fixed toward the front. Every face is 
rigid with a determination not to flinch before any danger. 

More thickly fly the bullets, and more angrily they hiss 
through the air. The first man falls. A swift bullei 
strikes him squarely in the forehead and he goes down, a life 
less heap. His comrades oneitherside foran instant shud- 
der and look aghast. 

Who, himself mortal, and liable the next moment to meet 
a similar fate, can look upon such a scene without a 
tremor? A brave fellow-soldier, an associate from boy- 
hood, a loved messmate, perchance a brother, presses 
forward by your side, facing the pitiless storm. You feel 
the touch of his elbow, and your own courage is strength- 
ened by his presence and comradeship. The next moment 
his bleeding body lies at your feet. How your heart leaps ; 
how keen the pang that pierces your breast ! One quick 
glance, and you are borne along by the rushing tide that 
sweeps on and on. Soon your mind and heart are full 
of other thoughts, as you enter the whirlwind of battle, 
and death's sickle is busy around j^ou reaping its fearful 
harvest. But when the fight is done, around the camp-fire, 



"close the gaps." 405 

in the narrowing circle of the "mess,'' on the march, or 
Wing wrapped in your blanket, tender memories will 
come to you of him who fell by your side. Nor can the 
thrilling emotions of that moment when he was stricken 
down be effaced by all the years of life's longest span ! 

Another falls, and another ! Quick as the lightning's 
flash speed the missiles upon their awful errand. Soon a 
dozen — twenty — are missing from the ranks. As 3'ou push 
on, cast your eye backward for an instant and you may see 
them. Some are lying motionless. They will ans^ver no 
more at roll-call. Others, pierced through body or limb, 
are writhing in pain, while the fast-flowing life-streams 
redden the shuddering earth. Above the roar of the con- 
flict groans and sharp screams of agon}' reach the ear. 

A solid cannon shot comes rushing through the air with 
a loud "zh-h-h-h." It plows through a file, front and rear, 
and two brave heroes lie in shapeless, quivering mass. A 
well-timed shell plunges into the rankr It bursts with 
deafening sound, and half a score of men are scattered 
upon the ground, torn and mangled by its cruel fragments. 

"Close up, men!" 

The gaps are closed and the panting soldiers push for- 
ward. 

This is war, in all its dreadful reality. The moving can- 
vas has at last brought to the eyes of the 200th Indiana 
the picture painted in its most lurid colors. 

The regiment nears the spot where the fight is raging. 
A little wa}' ahead, dimh^ seen through the smoke that 
now hovers over the field, is the line of blue \vavering 
before the storm. Braveh' and well those fast thinning 
ranks have stood in the face of that withering blast. But 
their cartridge-boxes are well-nigh empt3\ Some have 
fired the last charge and have fixed ba3'onets, determined 
to die rather than 3'ield. The enemy is preparing to launch 
fresh troops upon them, and without speedy succor they 
must be overwhelmed. Messensfcrs have been sent in hot 



406 . "load and fire at will!" 

haste to hurry forward the promised relief. Will it arrive 
before the exultant foe hurls his eager battalions upon 
them ? 

"Forward, my brave men; do your utmost!" shouts the 
colonel of the 200th. All along the line officers and men 
catch the word. A loud cheer bursts from every lip as they 
sweep forward. It reaches the ears of the sorely-pressed 
men at the front, and they send back through the trembling 
air glad shouts of greeting. 

At every step men are falling before the leaden hail. Shot 
and shell tear the ranks, or go crasliing through the trees 
above and around. An instant the line wavers, then 
rushes over the ground now thickly strewn with the dead 
and the d3ang. 

Down goes the colonels horse, pierced by a ball. Spring- 
ing to his feet the officer waves his sword and dashes 
ahead. The shouts of the enemy are heard, and a wild yell 
of defiance is sent back in response. 

Twenty paces more — ten — five! Lack of ammunition 
has caused the fire to slacken. Encouraged by this the 
enemy is preparing to charge. Not a moment is to be lost. 
The 200th Indiana passes through the decimated ranks 
and stands face to face with the foe. As the colonel steps 
to the rear of the line he gives hasty command : 
' ' Battalion ! Ready — Aim — Fire ! ' ' 

With blaze and roar five hundred muskets send a volley 
of bullets that causes the enemy to reel and stagger. 
"Load and fire at will!" 

Now it in work, desperate and furious. Every man feels 
that his own life may depend upon the rapidity with which 
he delivers his fire. Cartridges and ramrods are handled 
with nimble fingers. Thick and fast the bullets fl}' into the 
ranks of the enemy. 

But in the onward rush of the regiment we have for 
the moment lost sight of Corporal Klegg and Shorty. Let 
us find then^. if we can, amidst the smoke and din and car- 



TWO BRAVE BOYS. 



407 



nage, and see how they carry themselves in this trying 
ordeal. 

There, side by side, they stand, loading and firing as 
coolly as if they were veterans of a hundred battles. Look 
upon the face of Si and you will see j^ictured there what 
it was that conquered the great rebellion. See in those 
flashing eyes and firmly-set lips the spirit of courage, of 
unpadding determination, and of patriotic devotion, even 
to the supreme sacrifice, if need be, of life itself. There 
were manv boys such i,-^,,- ,,., , r 



as he, who were giants 

in valiant \varfare — 

heroes, indeed, who 

looked unflinchingly in 

the face of death on 

many a well - fought 

field. 
The missiles fly around 

him with venomous hiss 

and patter against the 

trees, but he seems not 

to hear them as he rams 

home cartridge after 

cartridge and fires with 
careful aim. The fall of 
a loved comrade, struck 
by a fatal shot, or the "pluck." 

sharp cry of anguish from one wdio has been torn 
by shell or bullet, draws his attention for an instant. 
There is a quick, tender glance of soitow, a word of sym- 
path}', and again he is absorbed, with an intensitj^ that 
no words can express, in the awful duty of the hour. Every 
nerve is at its highest tension. He has no thought for 
himself, but now and then he turns his eye to see if Shorty 
is still untouched. It has been no time for talk ; but, stand- 
ing together in the fierj^ breath of battle, they have ex- 




408 CONFIDENCE NOT MISPLACED. 

changed now and then a word of cheer. Bound together 
by ties of companionship that none but soldiers can know, 
each holds the life of the other as dear as his own. 

Shorty is cool and deliberate, though scarcely less active 
than Si in all his movements. He has never felt any real 
doubt of himself. His experience with the world all his 
life had been somewhat of the "rough-and-tumble" sort, 
and there had been occasions when his personal courage 
was thoroughly tested. His feeling for Si was like that of 
a brother, and while he had unbounded confidence in his 
good intentions, he had not been without a fear that his 
"pard" might be one of the man 3^ whose courage w^ould 
fail at the critical moment. Ever since they were aroused 
from their bivouac he had kept an anxious eye upon him, 
and it was with a keen satisfaction that he noticed his 
gallant bearing. An occasional glance at the face of his 
comrade was enough to assure him that he was made of 
true metal. 

"That feller was 'bout right when he said 'twas mighty 
hot in here," says Si, as he rams a bullet into his miusket, 
"but I'm gittin' kinder used to it now, 'n' I don't keer fer 
it a bit." 

Si takes a cap from his pouch, places it upon the nipple, 
and blazes away. 

"Thar!" he says, "I don tlike ter think 'ti'm here doin' 
my best to kill people, but I jest hojoe that bullet '11 hit the 
man 't broke Bill Brown's leg a bit ago. Bill 's sittin' 'hind 
that tree tryin' ter tie up his leg. I'd like ter go 'n' help 
him, but we've got ter whale them Johnnies fust." And 
another ball from Si's gun speeds upon its mission. 

The tremor and unsteadiness that Si showed in the 
morning have entirely disappeared. As he had told Shorty, 
he is now "getting used to it." His tongue is once more 
loosened and he finds relief from the strain upon him in 
talking to Shorty in his accustomed way, still loading and 
firing with unabated zeal. 



THEY WOULD NOT LIE DOWN. 409 

"I was afraid we'd be too late gittin' here"— and Si in- 
terrupts himself to bite a cartridge—" 'n' I tell ye we was 
jest in the nick o' time, for them boys was mighty near out 
o' am'nition. One on 'em told me he hadn't a catridge 
left." 

"Take that, 'n' see how ye like it!"— and Si pulls the 
trigger again. 

"I've emptied my box a-ready," he goes on, "'n' I'm 
usin' the catridges I brung 'long in my pocket. Mighty 
glad IVe got 'em, too. I've been aimin' low, jest 's the 
cap'n told us, 'n' I'd orter 've hit forty or fifty of the ras- 
kils by this time. I sh'd think what's left on 'em 'd begin 
ter think 'bout lightin' out o' there. Mebbe we'll git a 
chance purtysoon to give 'em the bay'net. I feel 's though 
Id jest like ter charge 'em once." 

"P'raps the rebs '11 do the chargin'," says Shorty, who 
has taken scarcely part enough in the talk to make it a 
conversation. 

The officers had ordered the men to lie down, that they 
might be less exposed to the enem^-'s fire. But Si will not 
lie down. 

"I'm goin' ter stan' up to it,'' he says to Shorty, "I kin 
shoot jest twicet 's fast that way 's I kin lyin' down; I 
ain't goin' ter git 'hind no tree, nuther. I'll let the ossifers 
have the trees. They 'pear ter want 'em more 'n I do. It 
looks 's ii a man w^as afeard, 'n' I know I ain't.'' 

This feeling was common to new troops in their first 
fight. In their minds there was an odium connected with 
the idea of seeking cover. It was too much like showing 
the white feather. But in the fullness of time they all got 
over this foolish notion. Experience taught them that it 
was the part of wisdom, and not inconsistent with the 
highest courage, to protect themselves when opportunity 
was afforded. They found that it was a good thing to 
interpose trees and stumps and stone walls between their 
bodies and the enemy, while loading their pieces. 



4.10 SHARP, HOT WORK. 

" Ouch !" exclaims Si, as he feels a smart rap on his head, 
that staggers him for a moment, and a twinge of pain, 
"Did ye bmiip me with yer gun, Shorty ?" 

"No, I didn't touch ye. Si." 

"Then I reck'n 'twas a bullet. Jest look at my knob, 
'n' see 'f I'm hurt any!" 

They drop upon their knees and Si wdiisks off liis hat. 
There are the holes where a bullet has passed through it. 
Blood begins to trickle down over his face. 

"Plowed a neat little furrow on yer scalp, Si, but 'tain't 
deep. D'ye want ter go back?" 

"Not's long's I kin stan'up and shoot, "says Si. "Guess 
'f I was killed I'd ha' found it out 'fore this. Take my 
han'k'chief 'n' tie 'er up. That's 'bout 's cluss 's I keer to 
have 'em come. But Johnny Reb '11 have to do better 'n' 
that 'f he wants ter make me quit. I tell ye, I've come to 
sta}^ Shorty." 

"Bully fer you, Si! I'm proud o' yer pluck!" saj-s 
Shorty, as with gentle fingers he wipes the blood from Si's 
face, and ties the crimsoned handkerchief around his head. 

"Now I'm all right!" says Si, as he springs to his feet 
and rams in another cartridge. "Shouldn't wonder 'fit 
'd do me good ter let out a little blood. I'd like ter git 
even with that chap!" And he sights his gun in the di- 
rection from w^hich he thought the hostile bullet had 
come. " I hope that'll fetch him !" 

Spat ! A ball strikes the stock of his musket, and knocks 
it into splinters. 

"There goes my gun, Shorty. Seems 's if them fellers 
was all tr34n' ter hit me. But this only strikes Uncle Sam 
n the pocket, 'n' I guess he kin stan' it. There's poor 
Andy Green 't was killed a few minnits ago. He's lyin' 
thar with his gun 'n his hand. I'll git that 'n' try 'n' 
make it do good sarvis fer him 'n' me, too !" 

Si flings away his disabled piece. Bending over he 
tenderly disengages the musket from the clutch of the jet 



THE RANKS THIN RAPIDLY. 411 

warm but stiiTening fingers of his dead comrade. Fearing 
that his ammunition may be exhausted he takes from the 
body the cartridges that remain and puts them in his 
pocket. A tear gathers in his e^-e, but he bruslies it away, 
and again he is by the side of Shorty, loading and firing 
Avith redoubled energy, as if to make up for the time he 
has lost. 

A bullet skims verx^ close to Short^^'s body, cutting the 
strap to his haversack, and the latter falls to the ground. 

"They've cut off my supplies, Si," he exclaims, as a 
faint smile creeps over his grim face. "But I can't stop 
ter fix that now!'' 

"Never mind !" says Si. "Jest keep blazin' away at 'em, 
'n' we'll manage 'bout the grub. I'll go halvers with ye 
on what I've got." 

Scarcely twenty minutes have passed since we found Si 
and Shorty so bravely fighting the foe. Events crowd 
rapidly upon each other at such times. 

We glance along the line of the 200th Indiana. Nearly 
half its men and officers have been killed or wounded. The 
body of the lieutenant-colonel lies stiff and stark. The 
adjutant has been borne to the rear with a bullet 
through his breast. The major is still at his post, with 
a bleeding arm carried in a sling. The brave colonel is yet 
untouched. Proud of his gallant men, he passes fearlessly 
through the ranks, with v^ords of commendation and 
cheer. Now he stops for a moment to stanch a wound, 
and again to place his flask to the lips of a fainting sufferer. 

Captains and lieutenants have fallen on every hand. 
Some of the companies have lost all their officers and are 
commanded by sergeants. But the men Avho have been 
spared fight bravely on, with no thought of turning their 
backs to the enem}'. 

Once — twice — thrice the colors of the 200th have gone 
down, as those who bore them have successively fallen. 
They disappear but for an instant. Other ready and 



412 THE FLAG STILL FLOATS. 

willing hands grasp the staff, and bear aloft the sol- 
dier's beacon. The flag, torn and rent, but glorified and 
beautiful, floats proudly in its place. The sight of its 
stripes and stars, waving amidst the smoke and blaze of 
battle, is a sublime inspiration. It is the very embodiment 
of the cause for which they are fighting and bleeding and 
dying — the e>mblem of liberty and the unity of a great 
Nation. The soldiers cheer as they look upon it. Brave 
men wounded unto death, turn their eyes to its graceful 
folds and faintly shout, with the last gasp of swiftly -ebbing 
life. Ah ! you who have never stood beside your country's 
flag amidst such scenes as this can know little of the emo- 
tions that thrilled the throbbing heart of the patriot 
volunteer ! He never looks iipon it today that it does not 
recall the valor and the heroic suffering of those who fol- 
lowed it during those fearful years of fire and blood and 
death ! 

The steady and well-directed fire of the 200th and the 
other regiments of the brigade to which it belonged has 
held the enemy in check. There are signs of weakness in 
the opposing line and a charge is ordered. 

"Battalion— Cease firing!" shouts the colonel of the 
200th, dashing to the front. " Fix— Baj^onets !" 

"D'ye hear that. Shorty?" says Corporal Klegg, as he 
quicklv responds to the command. "Now w^e're goin' ter 
go for 'em. That jest suits me!" 

There is a click and a clatter for an instant, and the line 
bristles with points of steel. 

"Close up on the center!" 

The line is but half as long as when it formed in the 
morning. 

"Charge — Bayonet ! Forward — Double-quick— March !" 

The men spring at the word, and sweep forward with 
loud shouts. A minute or two and they are looking into 
the very muzzles of the enemy's guns. During that brief 
period many more have fallen, but the rest rush on like a 



"CHARGE bayonet!" 



413 



resistless tide. The hostile line trembles, quivers, and then, 
ivithout waiting to meet the shock, breaks in confusion. 
The men of the 200th dash after them with wild yells, 
picking their way among the dead and wounded that in- 
cumber the field. 

Si and Shorty engage in the charge with the utmost en- 
thusiasm. None are farther to the front than they. One 
of the enemy's color-bearers stands bravely at his post, 
but on either hand the line is fast melting away. Swiftly 
leaping over the ground Si and Short}^ present their bayo* 




THE CHARGE OF THE 200tH INDIANA. 

nets and demand surrender. There is no alternative, and 
the flag and its bearer are theirs. 

At length the eager men are recalled from the pursuit. 
Back they come with glad shouts of exultation, bringing 
many prisoners as trophies of their valor. Whatever may 
have been the fate of battle elsewhere along those rniies of 
lighting, the 200th Indiana has won its victory. 

A member of Company Q. a friend of Si, is one of the last 
to fall, in the moment of triumph. As the regiment is 
ordered to withdrav/ Si bends over his wounded comrade. 



414 



VICTORY FOR THE 200TH. 



"How d'ye feel, Bob?" he asks, with kindly sympathy 
" Ar' ye hurt much?" 

"Purty bad, I'm 'fraid," is the answer. "I guess that 

bullet busted my knee. But we licked 'em, didn't we, Si?'* 

"Course we did! I knew we was goin' to all the time. 

You're a brave bo}^, Bob, 'n' I ain't goin' ter leave ye lyin' 

here. Shorty, jest take my gun, 'n' you march our pris'- 

ner. Let him carry his flag, 'n' I'll take Bob on my back. 

Here, Bob, take a swig out o' my canteen.' 

A draught of water refreshes the sufferer. 

" Hyar, lemme give ye a lift," says the rebel color-bearer. 

{ "I 'low we're all human 

bein's if we be fightin' 
an' killin' each other. 
He's wounded an' I'm a 
pris'ner. We ain't none 
of us cowards an' we 
kin be friends now." 

Shorty and the cap- 
tive gently lift Bob and 
place him on Si's back. 
' ' Grip \'er arms 'round 
my neck 'n' hang on!" 
says Si ; and away he 
ffoes bearino- him to the 




;^ 



V — ^4 



A COMRADE IN DISTRESS. 



rear. 



The 200th is relieved by a regiment which, thrown into 
confusion by the attack in the earl^' morning, has been 
rallied and reformed, and is again ready for battle. The 
200th is ordered to the rear for rest and refreshment, and 
to replenish its cartridge-boxes, that it may be readj' if 
again called into action. Its wounded are tenderly cared 
for, but there is no time now to bury the dead. For the 
present they must lie w'here they fell. 

The day wears away. All along the line the fierce as- 
saults of the enemy have been successfully resisted. The 



A FEARFUL NIGHT. 4-15 

threatened disaster of the morning has been averted. 
More than a third of the men in both armies have been 
killed or wounded. Some companies and regiments have 
been for the time almost blotted out of existence. 

The deepening shadows of that awful night settle down 
upon the bloody field — upon soldiers weary and worn, 
blackened by smoke and grime, but yet undismayed — upon 
great hospital camps filled with thousands of torn and 
mangled men, whose sufferings tender hearts and willing 
hands are striving to allay — upon other thousands of 
W'Ounded who yet lie among their dead comrades, chilled 
bj' the cruel December frost. It is New Year's eve. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

Scenes after the Battle — Calling the Roll and Burying the 

Dead. 

WHO that carried gun or sword through that fear- 
ful day can ever forget the horrors of the long 
night which followed ? It was keenly, bitterly cold. The 
ground and everything upon it was whitened by a frost 
so heavy that it seemed almost as if snow had fallen. 

Those w^io had met instant death upon that bloody field 
were more fortunate than some of their comrades who, 
desperately wounded, were left far out between the hostile 
lines, bej^ond the reach of succor. The biting frost supple- 
mented the dreadful havoc of bullet and shell. Lyingthere 
under the stars, mangled, bleeding and helpless, the flicker- 
ing spark of man}^ a life went out in agony. 

After the fighting of the day had ceased the commander 
of each army gathered his shattered battalions and estab- 



416 SI GROWS SENTIMENTAL. 

lished his lines for the night, in readiness to meet any 
emergency. The soldiers of the 200th Indiana — they had 
nobh- earned the right to be called soldiers now — were 
ordered to lie upon their arms. No fires were permitted. 
Hardtack and raw bacon, without coffee, comprised their 
evening refreshment. 

Like all the rest, Si Klegg and Shorty were greatly 
fatigued after the exertion and intense excitement of the 
day. In the heat of battle they had no thought of weari- 
ness, but after the fight was done, when mind and heart 
and body were relieved from the strain, there followed a 
feeling of extreme exhaustion. They lay down upon the 
hard, cold earth, between their blankets, and tried to sleep, 
but could not. The appalling events of the day were be- 
fore their ej^es in all their awful vividness. The hours since 
morning had flown as if they were but minutes. Amidst 
such scenes the senses take no note of time. And yet, look- 
ing back to the morning, it seemed an age. Occurrences 
of the previous day were but dimly remembered, as if they 
belonged to the half-forgotten past. 

"Shorty," said Si, as they lay shivering with the cold, 
"w^onder f I killed anybody today! - I tried ter — ye know 
that — when I was in the fight, but now^ it 's all over I don't 
like ter think 'bout it." 

"Them raskils tried hard 'nough ter kill 3'ou 'n' me, Si," 
said Shorty, '"n" they come purty nigh doin' it, too. How's 
yer head?" 

"It's a little bit sore, but that don't amount ter nothin' 
— only a scratch. It '11 be all right 'n a day er two. But I 
tell ye," continued Si, taking up the thread of his thoughts, 
"fightin' 's mighty tough business. I ain't much of a 
ph'los'pher, but I don't b'lieve all this murderin' 'n' 
manglin' 's right. Ef I sh'd kill a man up in InjiannyI'd git 
hung fer it, 'n' it 'd sarve ine right. When ye git down ter 
hard-pan I can't quite see why 'tain't jest 's cruel 'n' 



MORE OF SHORTY S PHILOSOPHY. 41? 

v.'icked ter put a bullet through a man's head or shoot ofi 
his leg in Teunessee 's 'tis n Injiannj.'' 

"Ye 're a good, brave bo\'," said Shorty, "'ii'yer gizzard 
is chucJv full o' sand, but ye want ter git over them squeam- 
ish notions. Them fellers begun this row, 'n' weVe got 
ter fight 'em till they quit. Yer idees 's right 'nuff, but 
ye can't make 'em fit war times. Y^e'll have ter hold 'em 
a while: they'll keep." 

"I s'pose that's so, Short^^ Course I ain't goin' tet 
stan' with my hands 'n m\^ pockets 'n' let a reb shoot me 
down 'n my tracks 'f I kin help it. The Guvyment s got 
ter be defended, but I tell ye it's mighty rough on them as 
has ter do the defendin'. I understand how that is, but I 
can't git it out o' my head that there's suthin out o' j'int 
somewhere when people 't pertendsto be civilized, 'n' some 
on 'em thinks they's Christians, gits up sich a shootin' 
match 's we had today, when everybody 's bio win' men's 
brains out 'n'punchin' bay 'nets inter their bodies. I know 
when ye git a war on yer hands ye've got ter fight it out, 
'n' somebody '11 have ter git hurt, but seems ter me there 
ortn't ter be any war, cept 'mong dogs, 'n' tigers, 'n' 
heathens. Ma^ notion is that there wouldn't be none, 
nuther, 'f the men 't got it up was the ones that had ter 
do all the marchin' 'n' fightin'. If the}^ did screw up their 
courage to tryit, one day like this 'd cure 'em, I'mthinkin'." 

"Ib'lieve ye. Si," replied Shorty, "but 's I said, ye've 
got ter git over bein' so chicken-hearted. I ain't afeard ye 
won't stan' up ter the rack, fodder or no fodder, after seein' 
how ye behaved yerself toda}^ but j^e'll feel better jest ter 
go in on yer nerve 'n' do 'em all the damage ye kin. That's 
what 3'e're here 'cr. If ye'd been bumped around in the 
world like me ye'd 've had the senterment all knocked out 
o' ye same 's I have. Fact is, 1 couldn't hardl}^ tell ^-e what 
I 'listed fer, 'cause I don't know myself. I s'pose almost 
every man's got some o' what they calls patri'tism, but 
I'm more 'n half thinkin' 't when they distributed it 'round 



418 PLUCK AND PATRIOTISM. 

I didn't git quite my sheer on it ; an' ithait?'t growed any 
sence I've bin soljerin', nuther. I reck'n ye've got more on 
it, Si, n I have. I can't see 's it makes any diif 'runce ter 
me, indivijly, whether this country 's cut in two or not. 
But I'm in fer 't 'n' I'm goin' ter keep peggin' away all the 
same 's if I was 's full o' patri'tism 's them red-hot speech- 
ifiers up North that goes around sloppin' over — but they're 
mighty keerful not to jine the army theirselves. I'm goin' 
ter try 'n' keep up my eend o' the barg'in, 'n' 'arn my thir- 
teen dollars a month. There's jest one more thing I w^ant 
ter say, Si. Ef either on us has got ter git killed, I hope 
"twon't be you, 'cause you've got lots o' friends 't 'd feel 
bad. I ain't o' very much ^count, noway, 'n' I don'f; 
b'lieve anybody's eyes 'd leak over me!'' 

It was a singular companionship — that of Si and Shorty 
— their dispositions and characteristics were so differentv 
but they had been drawn together and held in an ever- 
tightening clasp that only a fatal bullet could sever. 

Shorty was a type of the volunteer soldier that w^aa 
found in every company. All his life he had been buffeted 
about on a tempestuous sea. A " pilgrim and a stranger," 
he had few ties of kinship. His intercourse with the world 
had not tended to the growth and development of the finer 
sensibilities of human nature. His heart had not known 
that glowing heat of patriotic ardor that was the impel- 
ling force of so many who shouldered musket or buck- 
led sword. He had enlisted, iniluenced, perhaps, in some 
degree by an impalpable sense of duty, but, as he told 
Si, hardly knowing why lie did so. He cheered the flag 
when the others did, very much as though that were part of 
his duty as a soldier. And yet, notwithstanding all this, 
there w^as no man in the ranks of the 200th Indiana who 
would prove more patient and faithful and brave than 
Shorty. 

Si's state of mind at this time was a natural condition. 
It did not indicate any weakening of his patriotic resolu- 



A CRY OF DISTRESS. 419 

tion to do his duty well and faithfullj'. It was the inevi- 
table reaction after the intense strain of the day upon his 
mental and physical resources. It seemed to him, as it did 
to thousands and hundreds of thousands of others,, that 
war, in the abstract, w^as monstrously cruel and barbar- 
ous, and to reconcile it with the teachings of his boyhood 
was no easy task. Many others found the same trouble 
with this question that he did. 

After lying for an hour Si and Shorty arose and moved 
about to warm, by exercise, their benumbed and stiffened 
limbs. They walked out a short distance to the front, 
where the watchful pickets were keeping guard. Si's at- 
tention was arrested by a sound that came from beyond 
the line. 

" Hark!" he exclaimed, "d'ye hear that, Shorty?" 

They listened, and there came to their ears a low moan 
of pain. Si's tender sympathies were instantly aroused. 

"Shorty,"said he, "let's seeif wecan't help that poor suf- 
ferin' man. He'll freeze to death 'fore mornin'. You wait 
here t'll I go 'n' ask the cap'n, 'n' we'll see 'f we can't bring 
him in. We don't know how soon we'll be wantin' some- 
body ter do it fer us." 

"I'm with 3'e, Si," said Shorty. "Like as not them ras- 
kils over thar '11 fire at us. If we sh'd be killed, mebbe, if 
there is anybody up above that keeps the account, he '11 
give us a credit mark for tryin' ter help a feller-bein' 't 's in 
misery; 'n' perhaps it '11 offset a little o' what he's got 
charged agin us on t'other side. Go ahead. Si, 'n' bring 
yer blanket with ye. I'll stay here t'll ye come." 

St hurried back to where the remnantof Company was 
lying, and made known his wish to the captain. The lat- 
ter accompanied him to the colonel, who, after commend- 
ing in the highest terms his gallant conduct m the battle, 
consented that he might carry out his desire, at the same 
time warning him of the danger to which he w^ould be 
exposed. 



420 



A MISSION OF MERCY. 





fe^C,- 



Seizing his blanket Si returned to his comrade. Caution- 
ing the pickets, so that they might not be fired upon by 
their friends, the two good Samaritans went upon their 
errand of mercy. Carefully and stealthily they picked 
their way — for the enemy's videttes were but a short dis- 
tance off— guided by the groans that grew more distinct 
as they approached. 
Dropping to their knees they crept over the frost-covered 

ground, among the 
stiff and whitening 
forms of the slain. 
Over that field which 
a fe^v hours before 
was the scene of the 
battle's roar and 
carnage, now hung 
the awful silence of 
night and death. 

The object of their 

search la}' in an open 

spot, beyond which, 

through the dim 

starlight, Si and 

Shorty could see the 

picket-posts, behind 

which they knew 

the hostile sentinels 

were watching with 

sleepless eyes. The}' 

"FOR GOD'S SAKE, HELP ! " could scarccly hope 

to accomplish their purpose without being discovered. 

But they shrank not from danger. Slowly they made 

their way toward the sufferer. 

"Oh, help, help! For God's sake won't somebody 
come ! " 

"Hello, pard!" said Si, in a suppressed tone. "Keep up 




BORNE SAFELY BACK. 421 

yer nerve! We're comin' arter ye, and '11 be thar 'n a 
minnit !" 

Flat upon their faces they worked themselves along, with 
hand and foot, and at length reached the sufferer. There 
he lay upon the cold earth, a brave boy no older than Si, 
chilled by the frost, ^weak and fainting from hunger and 
loss of blood, in an agony of pain. 

"Good Lord in Heaven bless 'em, both of 'em!" he 
moaned, as they crept up beside him. 

The prayer of the penitent thief upon the cross was not 
more fervent and sincere. 

"Nevermind that, pard,'' said Si; "all we want now is 
ter git ye out o' this." 

With tender touch they raised him gently from the 
ground and laid him upon the blanket. There was a blaze 
from one of the enemy's pickets, the sharp crack of a rifle 
rang out in the clear night air, and a bullet Avhizzed past 
them. They dropped upon their faces for a moment. 

"Seems to me," whispered Si, "that Satan hisself 
wouldn't fire on us 'f he knowed what we was doin'." 

After a brief pause Si and Shorty started upon their re- 
turn. For the safety of their charge, as well as their own, 
they could not arise to their feet and bear off their burden, 
as they would be certain to draw the enemy's fire. Upon 
hands and knees they moved him along, a foot or two at a 
time. It was a slow and laborious task, but they toiled 
on patiently and perseveringly. Two or three times they 
were fired upon, but the balls passed harmlessly b}- them. 
Reaching cover, they were able to walk erect, and were 
soon within the lines. They bore the wounded soldier to 
the nearest hospital. There he received the care that might 
save a life which, but for the rescue, would have expired 
before the day dawned. 

•Si and Shortv took the cold hands of the sufferer and 
bade him good-b}-. 



4:22 HEARTFELT GRATITUDE. 

' ' I don't s'pose 1 11 ever see je ag'in, ' ' said Si ; " but I hope 
ye '11 pull through all right, n' I b'lieve ye will. What riji- 
ment d'ye b'loiig to?' 

"Hunderd 'n' seventy-fifth Michigan," was the faint 
reply. 

"Then we're neighbors when we're to home. I live in In- 
jianny, 'n' I'm in the bully 200th. I s'pose you've heern 
tell bout her; she's the boss rijiment." 

The wounded boy gazed into the faces of Si and Shorty 
w^ith a look of unutterable gratitude. It was clearly his 
opinion that if all the members of the 200th were like them, 
the regiment might well deserve the designation Si had 
given it. 

"If ye git well 'n' come back," continued Si, "ye must 
be sure 'n' hunt up me 'n' Shorty, 'cause we'll be glad tersee 
ye. My name 's Klegg and my pard's — well I most fergot 
what his other name is ; we jest calls him ' Shorty.' I hope 
ye'll find us 'live 'n' kickin' yet." 

"Ye've been mighty good to me!'' said the young sol- 
dier. " Ye've saved my life, and I'll never forget ye if I live 
a thousan' years. God bless ye !" 

Si and Shorty went back to their post with hearts 
aglow with pleasure at the thought of what they had 
done. 

The night wore slowly away. There were frequent 
alarms on the picket-line that kept the soldiers in constant 
trepidation. Regiments and brigades were being moved 
from one point to another, in preparation for the combat 
which it was expected would be renewed with the break 
of day. Themeasured footstepsof the marching battalions 
creaked upon the frosty ground. Few eyes were closed in 
sleep, and those only in short, fitful naps that gave little 
rest to wear}' bodies. 

For three days the two armies lay like wounded lions, 
glaring and growling each at the other, with occasional 



A FERVENT DOXOLOGY. 423 

fighting at one point or another on the long and tortuous 
line. Then, "between two days," the rebel army 

" Folded its tents like the Arabs 
And as silently stole away." 

With the dawn of Sunday morning came cessation of 
the toil and turbulence of the week. No shot sounded 
on the picket-line; no cannon thundered its morning 
alarm. An advance of skirmishers revealed only the de- 
serted works and camps of the enemy. Victory, so long 
hanging in the balance, had at last been decided for the 
Union arms. 

As if borne upon the wind the glad tidings spread 
through the army. The air was rent with wild huzzas. 
Whole regiments united, with a fervor and zest that words 
cannot describe, in singing to the tune of " Old Hundred :"" 

• " Praise God from whom all blessings flow." 

It was not prompted by any sudden ebullition of piety, 
but to those rejoicing hearts it seemed appropriate to the 
day and the occasion, and thousands of voices swelled m 
grand harm on}' till the woods rang with the inspiring 
sound. 

For the first time in a week the soldiers, wearied and 
worn with marching and fighting and nightly watching, 
stacked arms, threw' off their accouterments, built fires. 
and disposed themselves for needed rest and refreshment, 
without fear that crack of musket or scream of shell would 
summon them to battle. 

After breakfast Company Q, of the 200th Indiana, was 
drawn up in line for roll-call, for the first time since the 
havoc of the fight. One of the lieutenants had been killed 
and the other wounded. Only the captain remained of 
the officers. The company looked a mere squad when 
contrasted with the full ranks with which it went so 
bravely into battle. There were sad faces and aching 
hearts as the men thought of loved comrades w^ho had 



424 THE SAD ROLL-CALL. 

tnarched by their side, whose famiHar touch they would 
feel no more. 

"Call all the names," said the captain to the orderly, 
" and let the men answer for their comrades who are not 
here to speak for themselves. " 

''Sargeant Gibsqn." 

"Killed ; shot through the head! " 

"Sargeant Wagner." 

"Here!" 

"Sargeant Thompson." 

"Wounded in the thigh while holding the colors. " 

" Corporal Brown " 

"Mortally wounded; died the morning after the fight!" 

"Corporal Klegg. " 

"Here!" 

Si's response was clear and full, as if he was proud to be 
"here." There was a perceptible tremor in his voice, how- 
ever, for his heart was full of tender memories of those 
who had gone down before the storm. 

"Private Anderson." 

"Here!" 

"Aultman." 

" Dead ! fell by my side and never spoke a w^ord !" 

"Barnes." 

"Right arm torn off by a piece of shell ; in hospital." 

"Bow^ler." 

"Here!" 

"Connolly." 

"Killed in the charge when we drove 'em !" 

"Day." 

"Here." 

And so it went on through the list. Little wonder that 
the captain wept, as he stood with folded arms listening 
to the responses, and looking with feelings of mingled pride 
and grief upon what remained of his gallan'^; company! 
Little w^onder that tears trickled down through the dust 



BUKYIXG THE DEAD. 425 

and grime, over the faces of men strong and brave ! Little 
wonder that lips quivered and voices trembled with emo- 
tion, and the words, in answer to the call of the orderly, 
found difficult utterance ! 

After the roll was finished the captain tried to speak a 
few words of compliment to his men, but heart and voice 
failed him. Vainly striving to control his feelings he 
bade the orderly dismiss the companj^ and turned away 
with streaming eves. 

Later in the day an order was issued for a detail from 
each company to go upon the field where the regiment 
fought, and discharge the last sad dut\' — that of gathering 
and burying the dead. As yet the slain of the army were 
lying where they fell, scattered over miles of field and copse 
and wood. 

The orderly of Company called lor volunteers, and the 
necessary number stepped proniptU' to the front, Si Klegg 
and Shorty among them. Picks, spades and stretchers 
were supplied, and the detachment from the 200th. in 
charge of an officer, started upon its mournful mission. 

A suitable spot was selected and a long trench dug, seven 
feet wide and three feet deep. Then the mangled and stif 
fened corpses were borne thither upon stretchers. The}- 
were wrapped in the blankets which they had carried over 
their shoulders when they went into the fight, and which 
still encircled their lifeless bodies, reddened by the blood of 
those who wore them. The men laid their dead comrades 
side by side in the trench. Then theearthwas shoveled in, 
and those familiar faces and forms were hidden from the 
eves of the living. At the head of each was placed a bit 
of wood, perhaps a fragment of a cracker box, with his 
name, company and regiment penciled upon it for future 
identification. Few words were spoken during these sad 
rites. Hearts were too full. 

"Shorty, ' said Si, as they marched back to the bivouac, 
that's the bsst we could do fer the poor boys, but it 'd 



t.26 



"T AIATTERS LlTTl.E. 



make me feel bad ter think I was goin' ter be buried that 
way, huiiderds o' miles from home 'n' friends, 'n' 'thout 
even anybody to speak a prayer. I think a man't willin'ly 
gives his life fer his country as they did — an' ye know 
that's jest all a man kin do — desarvessuthin better 'nthat 
kind o' plantin', like so many pertaters in a row." 

'*Ye keep gittin' sentermental, Si," replied Shorty. 
"That's all well 'nough, but it don't matter much what 
they do with ye after a bullet 's gone through yer head. 
I'd 's lief be buried oneplace 's nuther. Anyhow, it's apart 




"we carved not a line, we raised not a stone." 
o' war. Ye git killed 'n* they dig a hole 'n' tumble ye in. 
V that's all 't military glory 'mounts to I " 

That evening the word was passed around that a mail 
would leave the next morning, and everybody addressed 
himself to the work of writing brief letters to friends at 
home. The necessary materials were scarce, but bits of 
pencils were hunted up and used by one after another in 
turn. Messages were written on leaves torn from diaries 
and odd scraps of paper picked up here and there Any- 
body who had postage stamps divided them around among 



SI WRITES AGAIN. 42 < 

his comrades. Uncle Sam ought to have "franked" the 
letters, but he didn't. 

By the flickering light of a fire Si wrote — on paper that 
had found its way to the front as a wrapper for cartridges 
—a short letter to his mother, and another that ran in 
this \vay: 

jan the 4 1860 3 
Deer Annie I spose youve saw in the papers bout the awful fite wehad. 
Yude better blieve we lictem too. Of course taint fer me to brag bout 
myself an I aint going to but ile jest say that me an Shorty was thar all 
the time an we dident git behind no trees nuther. I tell ye it washottem 
a camp meetin. Wun bullet scraped the hare ofifn my hed an nuther 
nocked the but of my gun into slivers an nuther cut the strap of Shortys 
haversack thats the bag he carcys his grub in but w^e got out all rite. I 
had a idee yude be kinder glad to no i dident run and hide in a mewl 
wagin when the bullits began ter zip. I want yer to think as mutch of 
me as ye kin an I no a gurl likes a feller wat tries ter be brave an do his 
dewty bettern she does wun wats a coward. If enny of cumpny Q as 
was wownded gits hum on furlo I aint afeerd ter have ye ask em how Si 
klegg stood the rackit. Shorty an me capcherd a rebble flag an the man 
wat was carryin it. It was mity billyus an i dident bleeve ide ever see 
ye agin. Maby i wunt cause i spose weve got ter go threw sum more 
fites but ittle make me feel awfle bad if i dont fer ive tliot a heap of ye 
durin these days. I hoap ye think bout me as oflen as i do bout yu. But 
Sciy Annie i doant want ter fite haf as bad as i did afore taint funny a bit. 
Rut the 200th is a bully rijiment an ime goin ter stick by her jest the saims 
ime goin ter stick by yu. Thares lots o things ide like to rite but i cant 
row as i haint enny more paper an i got this oflfen a packidge of catridges. 

if yu luv me as i luv yu 

kMO nife can cut ower luv intu. 

Yourn frever Si Klegg- 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

The 200th Indiana has a Protracted Turn of Fatigue Duty— Si 

Wrestles with Pick and Shovel and Tries to Outflank 

THE Doctors. 

4 i T""^ VERY man must be ready tomorrow mornln' for 
t ^ fatigue duty!" said the orderly of Company Q, 
one evening. "There ain't goin' to be any playin' off, fer 
everybody's got to turn out!" What the nature of the 
duty was, or how much "fatigue" there would be in it, 
the orderly did not say, if, indeed, he knew. 

It Was always characteristic of soldiers during the first 
few months of their service that they wanted to know 
about everything that was going on or that was expected 
to happen. The proverbial curiosity of woman dwarfed 
into insignificance beside the consuming desire in the breasts 
of the raw soldiers, to find out what the generals were 
going to do next. Whenever an order was given, a volley 
of conundrums was fired at the officers — where were they 
going and what for? what was to be done, and why? 
The answers were generally so unsatisfactory that they 
knew even less about it, if possible, than before. They 
came gradually to realize that the whole duty of a soldier 
was contained in the single word "obey" — without asking 
any questions. They would find out soon enough what- 
ever was necessary for them to know^ 

428 



SHORTY HAZARDS AN OPINION. 429 

•'Wonder what's up now!" said Si Klegg, as he and 
Shorty walked back to the tent after the company was 
dismissed. 

"I ain't sartin," replied Shorty, "but IVe an idee they're 
goin' ter put us to diggin'. When I was out with the de- 
tail after wood yisterdy I seen a lot o' ossifers surveyin' 
'n' squintin' 'round 'n' drivin' stakes, 'n' I hearn 'em talk 
'bout fortifyin' ; so I shouldn't wonder 'f we w^as 'lected 
fer a job. Looks 's though spades d be trumps fer a 
while ! ' ' 

Si and Shorty talked the matter over before going to 
sleep and made up their minds to go along the first day 
without any fuss and see what kind of work they had on 
their hands. If it proved to be heavy and continuous they 
could, from timetotime, make judicious use of their ability 
to"playoflf." 

"Guess we kin stan' it fer one day," said Si, as he rolled 
over, pulling the blanket from Shorty, "but I tell ye what, 
I ain't goin' ter make a nigger o' myself 's long's my name 
's Si Klegg. Talkin' bout niggers, there's thousands on 
'em lyin' 'round doin' nothin'; why don't the Guvyment 
make them do the diggin' ? I ain't no statesman, but it 
looks ter me 's though 'f anybody 's goin' ter have any 
good out o' this war the niggers '11 git the most on it. Ef 
I had my way I'd make 'em help some way er ruther!" 

" 'Tain't no use ter phlosofize or argefy 'bout the war 'n' 
what's goin' ter come of it," replied Shorty, drawing the 
blanket over his lean limbs. "In the fust place 3'ou 'n' me 
don't know nothin' 'bout sich things, 'n' in the next place 
'twouldn't make a diff o' bitterence 'f we did. We hain't 
got nothin' ter sa\% nohow; so don't \q bother yer head 
with what b'longs ter the poll\'tishuns. That's wdiat 
they're fer. Mighty few on 'em comes down here ter git 
shot at. Now let's dry up 'n' go ter sleep !' 

In the mornins breakfast call sounded early. As the 



430 "playing off." 

bugle notes floated over the camp the boys joined in with 
the well-known words : 
The order for fa- 




-V — N-#-hi — i-\ — I *i — s — ^-*-^ 



tigue duty seemed 

to have an Unfavor- Hard tack and sow-bel-lee! Hard tack and sow-bel- 

able effect upon the r-^r-r^^-^— ^r .— ^-^r-^- 

liealth of the com- 



— j — J- -* T— N — ^-i— • N — ^ — i-i-0--j-0— -N — ^-;-#— I 



mnv At 1efl<i+ in -leelDon't ye hear the bugle toot, the drums go rub- 

no other way could B^j^ F=^=^:^^i E =p:^^=zg 3 
be explained the ' — '- ^ -^— '^ s » * * ' --* 



explained 

unusuallv large -*'^''' Come ye hungry sons of guns, fail 

deleo-ation that re- 



P-#-i Fi— i^r-^Fi — ^ ^-^F'5^ — H 

\^—^-f-vrV *— '^ » — » — ^-# F^ \\ 



sponded at sick- ^-^—^-i-v- 

11 T- • j_ ^i^ in an' git yer grub! hard tack and sow-bel-lee! 

orderly had cau- the call to breakfast. 

tioned them about "playing off," but these men were 
so fast becoming veterans that thej^ had already acquired 
a chronic dislike for fatigue duty, especially if it promised 
to be somewhat protracted. In most cases this feeling 
appeared to be constitutional, and the longer the meo 
were in the serA'ice the more it grew on them. 

The veteran soldier, no matter how hard the march, 
would go swinging along, with song and jest, and with 
never a word of complaint ; but he drew the line at fatigue 
duty. That was where he "kicked.'' When an unsol- 
dierly job of this kind was set before him he at once be- 
came the very incarnation of laziness. His aversion to 
the pick and shovel was onh^ overcome wiien, amidst the 
zipping bullets of the eneni}-, he was hunting around for 
something with which to dig a hole to get into. At no 
other time could he even look upon these menial imple- 
ments without a desire to organize an insurrection. 

A good many of the boys didn't feel very well that morn- 
ing, and helped to swell the crowd that attended the 
matinee at the doctor's tent. In most of the cases, how- 
ever, the symptoms were not sufficiently alarming to 



SHORTY GUESSED RIGHT. 431 

justify the dispenser of medicines in marking tliem off 
duty. 

The daih' detail for guard usuall}^ provoked more or less 
grumbling, but on the morning in question those whose 
turn it was responded with a cheerfulness that under other 
circumstances would have been sur|)rising. Tramping to 
and Iro on a beat two hours out of six was preferable to 
degrading toil with axe or shovel. It vv^asn't as hard, and 
besides it was less compromising to the dignity of a 
soldier. 

Shorty's surmise proved to be correct. When the cus- 
tomary'- routine of the morning was over companies were 
formed and marched to the color line. The regiment moved 
out bej'ond the camp to its assigned place. Here the eyes 
of the men were greeted b\^ the unwelcome sight of wag- 
ons loaded with picks, shovels and axes. Each man was 
ordered to arm himself with one of these inoffensive im- 
plements. 

It did not take long for the men to size up the job which 
the engineers had laid out for them. Stakes and lines 
running at all sorts of angles as far as the eye could reach 
in either direction marked the cordon of heavj' earthworks 
that was to be built around the town. 

"Now shuck yerselves an' pitch in!" said the orderly' of 
Company Q. 

Si cast a despa'ring look, first at the tools and then at 
Shorty. He appeared to be waiting to see if some special 
dispensation of Providence in his favor would not yet 
release him from the irksome duty. There was no alter- 
native. 

"Have ter come to it, Si," said Shorty, who already had 
a pick in his hand. "Grab a shovel 'n' let's go to work. 
It does seem like gittin' down ter hard-pan, but 'tain't no 
use growlin'." 

Later in the war there w^ere times when Si wanted a 
shovel to dig a rifle-pit as badly as Richard III., at the 



432 SI THREATIiNS TO RESIGN. 

battle of Bos worth Field, wanted a horse. But he didn't 
feel that way now. 

The men stripped off their blouses and began to dig, 
while the officers did the heavy standing around and 
"bossing" the work. Corporal Klegg was not able to 
divest himself of the feeling — which had shown itself on 
several previous occasions — that his rank, humble though 
it was, ought to excuse him from such plebeian toil. He 
even ventured to hint as much, but was informed with 
some emphasis that the privileges of rank in this respect 
only reached far enough below shoulder-straps to take in 
the orderly sergeants. 

"I don't see no good 'n beln a corporil,"he muttered, as 
he seized a shovel and began to throw out the dirt that 
Shorty had loosened with his pick. "I've a great notion 
ter resign 'n' be a privit 'long wntli you. Shorty. Corporils 
don't git no more pay, ner no more grub, ner no more 
notliin' 'n anybody else does. It's jest a fraud !" 

"Now, don't ye be gittin' inter a fret!" replied Shorty 
"I'm hojDin' ter see ye up a right smart higher arter a 
while, but ye can't jump up all to oncet. It's jest the same 
's gittin' up stairs ; ye've got ter go up one step 't a time. 
I don't never expect ter be nothin' but a privit, myself, 
'n' I don't want ter; but I'd like you to git 's high 's ye kin. 
Ye'll be a sargint one o' these days ; 'n' then afore ye know 
it ye'll have sardine-boxes clapped on yer shoulders, 'n' be 
swingin' yer toad-stabber 'n' orderin' us fellers 'round. 
I'd jest be happy ter see ye doin' that. Si. When ye gits a 
little more 'sperience j^e'll make as good 'n ossifer 's any 
on 'em. Yc've got more sand 'n half on 'em, now; 'n' 
sand 's wuth a heap more 'n book-larnin' to a soljer. I 
don't s'pose ye'll git ter be a gin'ral 'nless the war hangs 
on a good while, but I'd like ter see ye a leftenant er a 
cap'n." 

It was rarel}^ that any serious disturbance of Si's good 
temper occurred, and when it did Shorty knew how to 



THE RIGHT TO GRUMBLE. 



433 



bring him back to liis usual placid state of mind. This 
hopeful view of Si's future served as a poultice to his in- 
jured feelings, and he was soon chattering away as cheerily 
as ever. 

"Ye know I didn't mean nothin', Shorty," he said. "I 
reck'n a soljer couldn't keep hisself 'n good health 'f he 
didn't grumble once 'n a while. I'm ever so much 'bleeged 
to ye fer all ye said. I hain't no more idee o' ever bein' a 
real ossifer 'n I have o' flyin'. It don't look much 's though 
I would, either — me 
here a-shovelin' dirt 
like a Paddy on the 
railroad. Guess I 
won't git above bein' 
a non-commish." 

"Well, ye don't want 
ter fergit. Si, that if 
this infernal rebellion 
's squelched it's them 
as carries the muskits 
that 's got ter do the 



business. The ginVals 

'n' colonels 'n' cap'ns 

tells 'em what ter do, 

but the men 're the 

ones that has ter do it. 

The ossifers most alius 

gits the heft o* the talking it over. 

glory, but we has ter do the shootin' 'n' diggin' jest the 

same." 

It may be readily inferred — and old soldiers will need no 
averment of the fact — that Si and Shorty did not exert 
themselves to an excessive degree. An^^body would have 
known they were working by the month, and for small 
wages at that. ki\ hour or two after the beginning of op- 
erations the captain of Company was moved to remark 




434 MORE PROSE THAN POETRY. 

that a fairly industrious hen, in quest of rations for a 
brood of chickens, would have scratched out a larger hole 
in the ground than appeared as the result of the combined 
efforts of the corporal and his comrade. 

*'If hens is so smart,'' said Si to Shorty, "p'r'aps they'd 
better git some 'n' put 'em to work. I don't b'leeve they'd 
7/ve long 'nough, though, ter do much scratchin'. They'd 
have ter roost mighty high." 

The work done by our heroes was a fair sample of that 
accomplished by the other members of Company Q. They 
did not take kindly to the pick and shovel. Such labor 
was wholly at variance with all their preconceived notions 
of a soldier's life. A large fraction of the poetry and ro- 
mance of their martial dreams had already' been dissipated 
by the fighting and marching and picketing and bivouack- 
ing, and now to be put to shoveling dirt was an indignity 
that few had philosophy enough to endure with compos- 
ure. So it w^as that mutterings were heard all along the 
line. 

As the distance from camp was considerable, the men had 
brought along their haversacks, and at noon they were 
allowed to "knock off" for dinner. "Dinner," was the 
name of it ; but it presented few of the attractions for a 
hungry man that cluster around that w^ord. The bill of 
fare 'was not one to tempt an epicure. Eating in those 
days w^as, like a good many other things, a military neces- 
sity. It was in this spirit that the men munched the flinty 
crackers, anointed with the unctuous drippings from sizzling 
swine's flesh, and washed them down with draughts of cof- 
fee w^ell-nigh strong enough to have floated an egg. 

The time allowed for refreshments was about as long as 
that usually vouchsafed at a railroad eating-house. The 
"All aboard ! " of the conductor Is not more unwelcome to 
the car of a famished traveler w^ho has but half eaten his 
dinner than was the order to those lazyHoosiers to resume 
the pick and shovel. 



SOWING FOR OTHERS TO REAP. 435 

The hours dragged slowly along — and so did the work. 
No doubt a few shots on the picket-line, followed by the 
galloping in of a stampeded cavalryman, would have 
urged them to greater activity ; although they had not yet 
learned by experimental knowledge what a very comfort- 
able thing it was, sometimes, to have a good line of works 
to get behind — and the comfort and satisfaction were 
alwaj^s in proportion to the height and thickness of the 
wall of dirt and logs. Thus far their ideas of fighting were 
confined to a square, stand-up, give-and-take, with bullet 
and bayonet. They had a vague notion that fortifications 
might come handy in certain contingencies, but on the 
whole they were at this time willing to take the chances 
in open field. 

"I wouldn't mind it so much," said Si, as he looked rue- 
fully at a well-developed blister that had already made its 
appearance on one of his hands, "if the Johnnies 'd only 
march up in front o' the works after we git 'em done and 
let us shoot 'em. "We'd end the war purty sudden. But I 
don't s'pose we'll git a chance ter fight behind 'em arter 
we've built 'em. We'll be sure ter go scootin' off some 
where 'n' some other fellers, lazier 'n we be, '11 come in 
here '_' git the good of 'em." 

Si was about right. It was seldom, indeed, that the 
drums and bugles did not sound for a break-up as soon as 
the boys had finished a good job of intrenching. Then 
other troops would come along and enjoy the fruit of their 
labors. 

To the members of the 200th Indiana the sun seemed to 
stand still that day. Thej^ thought it never would go 
down. It did reach the horizon at last, and with unspeak- 
able relief the soldiers obeyed the order to fall in and 
march back to camp. 

"If I ever 'list ag'in," said Si, as he washed the dust and 
sweat from his hands and face, Short}^ supplying him wnth 
water from a canteen, "I'm goin'ter haveasquar'barg'in. 



436 



SI OUT OF JOINT. 



I'll have it all down in black 'n' white so I'll kno^w jest 
what I've got ter do. I s'posed soljers jest had ter Vv^ear 
nice clothes kivered with brass buttons, 'n' march 'round 
with the flags a-flyin' 'n' the bands a-playin' in galyant 
style. That's the w^ay they all do up North, biit it's a 
mighty sight difF'runt down here. It jest knocks a feller's 
notions higher 'n Gilderoy's kite! " 

" Thar ye go agin, blowin' off yer steam,"' replied 
Shorty, as Si took the canteen and began to pour water 

on his comrade's grimy 
hands. "I knowed a 
good deal 'bout it 'fore 
I jined the army, from 
wdiat I'd read and 
heern, but I never told 
ye 'cause I didn't want 
ter make ye feel bad 
'forehand. 'Tain't 
wuth while ter be fret- 
tin' 'bout what's ahead 
o' 3^e. Now cheer up, 
pard, 'n' we'll do our 
sheer, whether it's 
marchin' er fightin' er 
diggin'. But I tell ye. 
Si, we ain't goin' ter 
do any more '« our 
share. Ye kin jest bet yer gunboats on that." 

Day after day and week after week the work w^ent on. 
There w^as nothing but picking and shoveling dirt and 
cutting fagots and tying them into fascines and gabions, 
to be used in the embrasures and inner w^alls. The boys 
grew very tired of such plodding, uneventful toil. Thej' 
wrought themselves up to thebelief that they would rather 
tramp, and even fight a little now and then, than to wear 
their lives away in digging. There was nothing m- 




CAMP ABLUTIONS. 



BEATING THE DOCTORS. 437 

Spiring or exciting about it, and patriotism was at a low 
ebb. 

The warm weather came, and still the great work was 
unfinished. Under the broiling sun the perspiring soldiers 
still kept shoveling and chopping, grumbling at the cruel 
fate that had overtaken them, and constantly exercising 
their wits to find new schemes that seemed to give promise 
of success in "playing off." Every man considered it his 
inalienable right to do this if he could. He who was most 
fortunate in "beating" the doctors was an object of su- 
preme envy to all his comrades. 

Si and Shorty contrived to get a day or two off now 
and then, nor did they seem to suffer from the smitings of 
conscience by reason of the means they employed to com- 
pass their ends. The}' did not propose to work all the 
time. They were going to get their share of rest, by fair 
means or foul — and they did. 

One day Si told the orderly he wasn't able to work, but 
the orderly said he would have to shoulder an axe or a 
shovel, unless he was excused by the doctor. He went up 
at sick-call and made a wry face, with his hands clasped 
over his body in the latitude of his waistband. The doc- 
tor gcxve him a lot of blue-mass pills, which Si threw into 
the fire as soon as he got back to his quarters. Then be 
spent the day in learning to play seven-up. He thought 
this was a great idea, but he tried it once too often. The 
doctor "caught on," and said, the next time Si went 
up, that castor oil was what he needed to fetch him 
around. So he poured out a large dose and made him 
take it right then and there. This was worse than dig- 
ging. 

Sometimes Si would eat nothing for a day, carefully 
putting awa}' his rations, however, for subsequent use. 
This rarely failed, w^ith him, to make out a prima facie 
case of sickness sufficienth' grave to secure an excuse from 
duty. Everybody' in the regiment knew that when he did 



438 shorty's success. 

not eat his full quota of hardtack and bacon somethnig 
was the matter. The doctor was assisted in making up 
his verdict by the marked effect of abstinence upon Si. It 
did, in fact, make him sick ; but as soon as he got back to 
his quarters he found in his haversack a sovereign remedy. 
He would eat up ever^^thing in sight and be speedily re- 
stored to his normal condition. 

Shorty proved to be highly gifted in the popular art of 
feigning sickness. He could make any doctor in Christen- 
dom believe — for a few times — that he was on the outer- 
most verge of his mortal existence and was about to be 
gathered to his fathers. He was shrewd enough to know 
that he could not reasonably expect to play it always on 
the same doctor. So he would watch when a different one 
— the surgeon, or an assistant, or sometimes the hospital 
steward — was running the pill shop. If it was not the 
same doctor that excused him the last time, Shorty would 
be suddenly seized with a violent and painful illness, and 
generally with highly satisfactory results. 

The pretended spraining of an ankle, with a little col- 
oring matter artistically applied to the unlucky member, 
coupled with the judicious use of a cane or an improvised 
crutch, at one time secured nearly a week of release from 
pick and shovel. A little flour sprinkled upon the tongue 
gave it a coating which, once or twice, deceived the hasty 
glance of the doctor, and led him to believe that the pa- 
tient had a clear case of fever, which gave him respite from 
work. 

Most of the time gained by these schemes was spent by 
the boys of Company Q in their tents playing euchre and 
"old sledge." It was an unlucky day for Si and Shorty 
when an officer, who was nosing around the camp, stuck his 
head into the tent where exercises of this kind were in pro- 
gress. Si had a good hand, and was just leading out with 
greaL earnestness in an effort to "ketch jack "from Shorty. 
Five minutes later the^^ were on the way, under guard,, to 



THE DOCTORS AHEAD. 



439 



the fortifications, where thej were made to buckle in for 
the rest of the day. 

Some of the doctors whose hearts, when they entered the 
service, were overflowing with the milk of human kindness, 
had the wool pulled over their eyes at first by the flimsy 
deceptions to which the boys soon learned to resort to get 
excused from fatigue duty ; but after a few months of prac- 
tice thc}^ got so that they could tell a sick man when they 
saw him. Then thc}^ took a fiendish delight in making life 
a burden to the "play- 
offs." They poured hor- 
rible doses down their 
throats, and this would 
often be supplemented 
by a trick of extra duty. 
Human ingenuity was 
literally exhausted by 
the soldiers in their 
efforts to outflank the 
doctors. Often they 
achieved a temporary 
success, but in the long 
run the doctors rarely 
failed to come out 
ahead. 

Si had heard a good 
deal about the ' 'Articles 
of War," and one day, an unexpected guest. 

after fatigue duty was over, he borrowed the captain's 
"Army Regulations" to see what the articles were. He 
had not read far when he burst into a laugh. 

"Shorty," he said, "jest listen ter this" — and he read 
aloud Art. 3, as follows : 

Any non-commissioned officer or soldier who shall use any profane 
oath or execration shall, for his first offense, forfeit one-sixth of a dollar, 
to be deducted out of his next pay ; for the second and each subsequert 




440 NO NEED OF A WAR DEBT. 

offense he shall forfeit a like sum and be confined for twenty-four hours ; 
and a commissioned officer shall forfeit and pa}', for each and every such 
offense, one dollar. 

"This war must be costin' a heap o' money," continued 
Si, *"n' I've read 't they was gittin' a big nashnel debt. 
'Pears ter me ef they 'd jest stick it to the soljers 'n' the 
ossifers 'cordin' ter this article o' war they 'd have money 
'nuff ter pay everything 's they go 'long, 'n' not have 
ter be borryin' all the time 'n' givin' guvyment bonds. 
Wouldn't they sock it to the ossifers? It 'd cost 'em six 
times 's much fer the priv'lege o' sw'arin' 's it would them 
as carries muskits." 

"I never knowed ther' was any sichreggelation 'sthat,'' 
replied Shorty, "'n' I don't reck'n any o' the boys ever heerd 
'bout it. I shouldn't wonder ef they waslayin'fer us with 
some sort o' skullduggery. The chapl'ins don't have much 
else ter do, 'n' mebbe they're keepin' tally on us, 'n' when 
the war's over like 'nuff Uncle Sam '11 bring in his bill fer 
it all to oncet." 

"Ef they do" said Si, "It'll be purty rough on some on 
'em. I 'low most o' the big gin'rals '11 be busted, 'n' the 
mule-drivers '11 owe the guvyment 'bout a million dollars 
apiece." 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 

In Which Si Serves as a Railway Train Guard and has a Call 
FROM Guerrillas. 

AN unusual stir was occasioned one evening in the 
camp of the 200th Indiana, by an order for half the 
regiment, including Company 0, to be ready in an hour to 
go as guard forarailroad train, which was to return on the 
following day with supplies for the army. 



A PROSPECTIVE EXCURSION. 441 

"That'll be jest fun, won't k, Shorty?" exclaimed Si 
Kleog, as he and his comrade hustled around, making the 
necessar}^ arrangements for the trip. " Ridin' on the keers 
'11 be a heap better 'n hoofin' it, with a feller's bones achin' 
n' his feet smartin'. Ye know, we kin git right inter 
one o' the passenger-keers 'n' be reel comf'table. It'll be 
suthin like ter travel 'n that sort o' st^^le. I wouldn't 
mind sarvin' out my time a-doin' that." 

Si was in high glee at the prospect of what he thought 
would be in the nature of a pleasure excursion. With a 
light heart he stowed away some hardtack in his haver- 
sack, filled his canteen, and examined the contents of his 
cartridge-box. 

"What do we want our blankets fer?" he said to Shorty, 
as he saw the latter rolling his up with the evident design 
of taking it along. "'Pears to me they'll only be in the 
way 'n' we'd better leave 'em.'' 

"I'm goin' ter stick ter mine," replied Shorty, laughing 
to himself at Si's luxurious ideas, " 'n' my advice to ye is 
ter take yourn. I'll miss my guess ef ye don't find use fer 
it 'fore mornin'. I'm 'fraid 3'e're foolin' yerself 'bout the 
coaches, 's they calls 'em. Mebbe we'll have 'em, but 
'cordin' ter my notion it's a good deal more likely we 
won't." 

At the signal the companies formed and marched to the 
train. This was composed of twenty or thirty ordinaCry 
box cars. 

* ' D'ye see any passinger-keers hitched onto that 'ere train, 
Sir^"" avsked Short\' with a broad grin. 

A look of disappointment passed over Si's face as he ran 
his eye quickly from one end of the train to the other. 

"Don't look much like it !" he replied. 

Again his exuberant vision of "having a good time" 
was rudely dissipated. But this had happened so often 
that it was getting to be an old story. Fortunatch' for 
him his disposition was like a ball of India-rubber, that 



442 ON THE HURRICANE-DECK. 

yields for an instant to a* sudden blow and then springs 
at once back to its proper shape. 

"Wall, Shorty," he said, "it'll be some satisfaction ter 
ride in them keers, if 't/s same 's cattle." 

Shorty smiled again, for he knew they would ha,ve to 
take passage on the "hurricane deck." The cars were 
filled with sick men and discouraged cavalry and artillery 
horses, bound for the hospitals and convalescent camps in 
the rear; for the armj^ was getting rid of its incum- 
brances preparatory to a general advance. 

" Company Q, tumble up on top o' them k'yars," shouted 
the orderly. 

"What, hev we got ter ride up thar?" said Si, with as- 
tonishment. 

"That's jest the size of it," replied Shorty. "Iknowed 
how it 'd be. I 'low ye won't be sorry ye fotched yer 
blanket with ye ! " 

Climbing between the cars, encumbered with arms and 
accouterments, was not an easy task. There was a great 
deal of slipping and tugging and "boosting," with the full 
quota of yelling. Si and Shorty clambered up as best they 
could, and found themselves, with some twenty others, 
looking for soft spots on the roof of a crazy car. One of 
those copious de-w^s, peculiar to the southern climate, even 
in midsummer, had made the top of the car slippery to the 
feet and cold and clammy to the touch. 

"Purty scurvy place ter sleep! " exclaimed Si, as he un- 
loaded some of his traps, flung his rolled-up blanket upon 
the ridge-board, and sat down upon it to think over the 
matter. "How does it strike j^ou. Shorty? " he asked. 

"Didn't spectnothin' else, "replied his comrade. "P'r'aps 
we won't git much chance ter sleep, anyway. Like as not 
some o' them pesky g'rillas '11 throw us off the track 'n' 
capter the hull outfit." 

"D'ye really b'lieve they will, Shorty?" said Si, with 
alarm. He had not thought of this as a possible outcome 



A BUMPY RIDE. 443 

of the expedition. It might turn out to be a serious busi- 
ness, after all. 

"Course I don't know nothin' 'bout it, Si, 'n' I don't 
b'lieve one way ner t'other. Sich things has bin did, 'n' 
they're jest 's likely ter hap'nter us 's anybody else. Them 
mizzable critters is alius pitchin' on when ye least expect 
'em." 

As soon as the men were on board, the engine, a wheezy, 
old fashioned wood-burner, gave a warning whistle and 
immediately pulled out into the darkness. The men spread 
their blankets and lay down, with their heads to the ridge 
and their feet in a row along either edge. 

All who remember the condition of the southern rail- 
roads during the war will appreciate the night ride of those 
Hoosier soldiers. The track was rough and crooked, and 
the cars swayed from side to side, and bobbed up and 
down, and jolted one against another in a way that kept 
the more timid ones in a state of consternation lest the 
train should go through a bridge or pile itself in a heap at 
the foot of an embankment. The chances seemed to favor 
some sudden stoppage of that kind. 

"If a feller's got ter die fer his country," said Si, as he 
lay holding fast to Shorty so that he might not be shaken 
off the car, "I'd a heap ruther a cannon ball 'd take my 
head off while I was chargin' a battery, or be stabbed with 
abay'net in a rough-'n'-tumble scrimmage, than ter be 
ground all to pieces in a railroad smash-up. Thar ain't a 
bit o' glory dyin' that way." 

As the result of the constant shaking, the prostrate forms 
of the men showed a continual tendency to slide off the roof. 
It was long before .Si and Shorty dared to close their eyes, 
but at last, overcome by weariness, they were cradled to 
sleep by the swinging motion of t-he cars. It was only 
for a brief and fitful "cat-nap." Shorty awoke with a 
start to find that both himself and Si had slipped down 



444? 



WHAT MIGHT HAVE HAPPENED. 



until their legs were dangling over the precipice, and their 
heels thumping against the side of the car. 

"Wake up, Si, quick, or you're a goner!" he shouted, as, 
recovering himself, he seized his comrade and assisted him 
to scramble back upon the treacherous roof. "We come 
mighty near bein' joggled off." 

Si's heart beat furiously foV a moment as he thought 




RIDING ON A RAIL ' IN THE ARMY. 



what a narrow escape it was, and how badly Annabel 
would have felt if he had tumbled off and been killed. 

For the next hour they kept wide awake. Si suggested 
thatif they only had a rope they might tie themselves to the 
ridge-board, but as they had none the proposition did not 
help them out. So they took turns at sleeping, one remain 



NOT SO FUNNY, AFTER ALL. 445 

ing on guard to prevent accident. On talking it over they 
had concluded that if they were to be attacked by guerrillas 
it was more likely to be on the return trip, when the 
train would be loaded with supplies, and therefore a much 
greate'i prize to the rebel troopers. 

Meanwhile the train kept on its swinging, jostling way. 
The engine puffed and "snorted, and the smoke and cinders 
streamed along the top of the cars, filling the eyes and 
ears and blackening the faces of the soldiers. Sparks and 
glowing coals fell upon them in a continual shower, burn- 
ing countless holes through clothes and blankets. Now 
and then a frantic "Ouch!" told that the fire had found 
its way through and was getting in its blistering work on 
the skin. If there was any mode of traveling productive 
of greater discomfort, those men had not yet experienced 
it. A tv/enty-mile march was sportive recreation by com- 
parison. 

There w^ere the usual long delays and "waits" that 
characterized the chaotic management of those confiscated 
railroads. Two or three times large details were made to 
"wood up," the necessary' fuel being procured by chopping 
fence rails. At other points the men w^ere obliged to pump 
water to supply the engine. 

It was morning when the train reached its destination. 
As Si clambered down from the car, weary and stiff, his 
face and hands begrimed with dirt and smoke, he would 
scarcely have been recognized as the jubilant youth of the 
evening before, elated at the prospect of soldiering in a 
passenger-car. He felt, and looked, as if that night had 
added ten years to his life. He had caught his full share 
of the sparks, and his overcoat appeared as if it had becxi 
used as a target by a company during a day's practice at 
shooting. 

"Now, men, ye want to stir around liveh' and git yer 
breakfast," said the orderh% "'cause ^-e've got to pitch 
right in an' load up these here k'yars ! " 



446 LEGITIMATE PLUNDER. 

Si had not reckoned on this, and he grumbled to Shorty 
as they limbered themselves up, washed their hands and 
faces, kindled a fire, and made coffee and toasted bacon. A 
chance to get all he wanted to eat brought him around in 
good shape, and he was himself again — good-natured as 
ever, and ready to do his part. 

Beside the railroad w^ere huge piles of stores — boxes of 
clothing and hardtack, casks of bacon, barrels of pickled 
pork, sugar, coffee and beans, great bundles of blankets, 
bales of hay, and sacks of corn — to supply the men and 
animals of the army. The men swarmed around, twenty 
or thirty to each car, and in scarcely more than an hour 
the train was loaded to its full capacity. When a cracker- 
box gave way or the head fell out of a sugar barrel, the 
men made good use of the opportunity to replenish their 
supplies. By the time the work was done all the haver- 
sacks of the detachment were filled to repletion. Corporal 
Klegg, in addition, stuffed all his pockets full of commis- 
sary stores. In the promise of an abundance for the 
next few days he found some compensation for the dis- 
comfort and labor of the trip. 

As soon as the work was finished the train w^as ordered 
to start directly for "the front.'' The companies were 
formed and the somewhat ominous command "Load at 
will — Load!' wasgiven. The clink of the ramrods had the 
sound of business. The men knew what it meant, and as 
they clambered again to the roofs of the cars their faces 
reflected the sober thoughts that w^ere passing through 
their minds. There was an absence of the usual levity, as 
thev discussed the probability of being molested by rebel 
cavalrymen. While engaged in loading the cars they had 
been repeatedly cautioned to keep a sharp lookout. Ru- 
mors were alw^ays more numerous and of greater size in 
the rear than at the front. 

"Tell ye what. Shorty, " said Si, as they lay on the roof 
of the car, "we won't have much of a show up here in a 



BACK TO THE FRONT. MT 

fight. The Johnnies '11 jest peck away at us 'n' wc can't 
help ourselves. There ain't no trees er fences fer us to git 
behind, 'n' a feller can't even dodge 'thout tumblin' off the 




LOADING UP. 

keer. I don't want niore'n 'n even chance, but seems like 
the odds was all agin us." 
"We can't have things jest 's we want em," replied 



448 BREAKERS AMEAL\ 

Shorty, " 'n' we've got ter make the best on it. I'm ready 
ter go my bottom dollar on ye, whatever comes." 

The train bumped and jolted along the uneven track. 
Every eye that was not full of dust and cinders was 
strained to catch the slightest indication of any hostile 
band lurking about. Mile after mile was passed in safety, 
and every turn of the wheels seemed to lessen the danger. 

As the train dashed around a sharp curve the engineer 
discovered a pile of logs and stones upon the track. He 
was a cool-headed man and knew just what to do in the 
emereencv. It took as much nerve to be a "railroader" 
in the government service as it did to be a soldier. Many 
of those intrepid engineers and brakemen quite as often 
heard bullets whistle, and had their wits and their pluck 
taxed to the utmost to get them out of tight places. 

The engineer saw at a glance that it would be impossi- 
ble to plow through the obstruction. The train would 
inevitably be "ditched" and the alternative of fight or 
surrender forced upon them. Quick as a flash he deter- 
mined to stop the train. There was not an instant to 
lose. Reversing his engine and pulling the throttle wide 
open, he whistled down brakes. The shriek of the whistle 
pierced the ears of the soldiers. Every man seized his gun 
and looked eagerly ahead. Crack ! crack ! went a dozen 
carbines and as many bullets went singing over the heads 
of the guards. 

"Jest wait t'll the train stops, 'n' we git a chance to go 
for 'em," Si said to Shorty, who was at his side ready 
for anything except being captured. Just then he saw 
one of his comrades tying a white handkerchief to his 
ramrod. 

"What ye doin' that fer?" said Si. 

"I d-didn't know b-but we m-might have to s-s-surren- 
der," he stammered in reply, through his white lips, dodg- 
ing to get out of the way of a bullet that went whizzing 
ten feet above his head, "an' I jest th-thought I'd g-git 



A TILT WITH GUERRILLAS. 449 

this thing ready to shake at 'em an' tell 'em we g-give up 
afore we was all k-killed !" 

"You put that 'ere wipe back into 3'er pocket jest 's quick 
's ever ye kin!" said Si, his eyes blazing with indignation. 
*'Ef ye don't ye'U be huntin' 'round fer a hospital mighty 
sudden. Company Q ain't goin' ter have no white rags 
stuck up here. D'ye s'pose we're goin' ter s'render? Ko- 
sir-ee-606 ! We're goin' ter thrash the daylights out o' 
them fellers ! " 

By this time the train was nearly at a stand. On either 
side of the track were the cavalrymen in gray prancing 
about and yelling to the blue-coats to surrender, backing 
up the demand with their carbines and revolvers. This 
was an argument that had two sides, and the men of the 
200th Indiana delivered a well-directed fire that caused 
several of them to reel from their saddles and threw the 
remainder into confusion, evidently suggesting to their 
minds the thought that possibly they had waked up the 
wrong passengers. 

**Now, men, to the ground, quick, and at them !" shouted 
the officer in command. 

The soldiers clambered down with all speed, many leap- 
ing from the cars in their zeal to obey the order. It was 
one of those critical times when a moment might decide 
the issue of the fight. Instinctively each man seized his 
bayonet, and in an instant the bright shafts of steel glis- 
tened in the sunlight. 

" Forward — Double-quick — March !'' 

Away they went, with a yell. Horses will not stand 
before a determined bayonet charge. The terrified animals 
turned and fled, bearing away their not unwilling liders. 
The latter, finding that they had reckoned without their 
host, were only too glad to make good their retreat. 
Hastily reloading their pieces, the plucky Hoosiers sent 
their farewell compliments after the fleeing horsemen and 
then returned to the train. 



450 



NO USE FOR WHITE FLAGS. 



As a general thing these predatory bands of marauders 
were verj' brave when they outnumbered their opponents 
four or five to one. A stout resistance, unless the odds 
were too great, seldom failed to drive off the assailants. 

Corporal Klegg was in high feather over the result, to 
wiiich he had contributed his full share. "Told ye we'd 
lick 'em!" he said to the comrade who, yielding to the 
weakness of the flesh, had made preparations to display a 
white flag, but who, after all, had charged in the front 
rank and borne himself bravely through the skirmish. 




A BRUSH WITH GUERRILLAS. 



•'Now when ye git back ter camp,"" continued Si, "jest 
throwr that hankercher into the fire, 'n' go ter the skinner 
'n' git one o"* somef other color. The 200th Injianny hain't 
got no use fer anything ter make white flags of. Ef ye 
hain't got 'em ye won't think o' usin' 'em. " 

The firing had not been wholly without effect, and a few 
■were killed and wounded on both sides. These were gath- 
ered up and placed on board, the track wa.s speedily 
cleared, the men once more mounted to the roofs of the 



ANOTHER BATTLE. 451 

cars, and the train sped on its way. In due time, without 
further molestation, it entered the lines of the great army. 

Next day, at dress-parade, an order from the command- 
ing general was read, complimenting in the highest terms 
the gallant conduct of the detachment. 

" Tally one more fer us, " Si said to Shorty, as he sat 
boiling his coffee for supper. 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

The Rebels Cdt the "Cracker-Line" and Si is Put on Quarter 

Rations. 

ANOTHER great engagement took place. The 200th 
Indiana was in the forefront of battle. Its thinned 
ranks and its long list of killed and wounded again bore 
eloquent testimony to the gallantry of its officers and men. 
Both Si and Shorty were so fortunate as to pass un- 
scathed through the dreadful storm.. Side by side they 
stood in the ranks and quailed not in the awful presence 
of death. 

Overwhelmed by the superior force of the enemy, the 
Union army was compelled to give ground. Stubbornly 
it yielded, fighting desperately, and bravely meeting the 
'onward sweep of the exultant foe. Lines of musketry 
blazed defiantly, and batteries of artillery, planted on 
each advantageous spot during the sullen retreat, belched 
forth murderous missiles. 

Falling back to a chosen position the army planted 
itself, determined to yield no more. It had suffered a tem- 
porary reverse, but its spirit was unbroken, its courage 
unfaltering. All through the long night, and the next da}^ 
the uncomplaining soldiers, though wearied by days and 



452 ON HALF RATIONS. 

nights of marching and fighting and sleepless w^atching, 
toiled with pick and shovel, under the constant fire of the 
enemy, to make their position secure. 

The Confederates, jubilant over their success, mounted 
their heaviest cannon upon the surrounding hills and, 
stretching out their long arms, grasped the line of railroad 
which w^as the only source of supply for the Union army. 
Then they sat quietly down to wait for hunger to do what 
valor could not. 

The soldiers and animals of the imprisoned army were 
immediately put on half rations and the strictest orders 
were issued against waste of anything that would afford 
sustenance to manor beast. Much of the time was passed, 
night and day, in the trenches. On the front line whole 
brigades and divisions stayed for twenty-four hours at a 
time in order of battle. At night part of the men lay 
down and slept, with their loaded muskets by their sides, 
while others watched. If a shot was heard on the out- 
posts they sprang to their feet in an instant and took 
their places at the works. Without shelter, drenched by 
frequent rains and chilled by nipping frosts, with rations 
meager and daily growing less, those brave, patient men, 
through weary weeks that lengthened into months, wnth 
unexampled intrepidity and fortitude, defied alike hunger, 
storm, and haughty foe. 

Si Klegg had become pretty well "seasoned " during his 
year and more of campaigning. He had seen, for that 
period, a fair share of hard service; but these times that" 
"tried "men's stomachs as well as theirsouls proved more 
serious to him than any of his prior experiences. Marching 
had been robbed of its terrors, the nightly vigil upon the 
lonely outpost had become a part of his regular duty, and 
he was always ready for a "whack" at the rebels in bat- 
tle or skirmish. But wdien the enemy assailed his haver- 
sack, by cutting off his supplies, it w^as a grave matter, 
that made heavy demands upon his patience and endur= 



RATHER FIGHT THAN STARVE. 453 

aiice. The full army ration was just up to the measure of 
his needs. He had never seen the time when he could not 
"get away" with his daily allowance. If the reduction 
had been made by easy stages he might have educated his 
appetite to meet the exigency, but this sudden and alarm- 
ing shrinkage filled him with dismay. 

In this land of plenty there are fe\v who know — as did 
many thousands of the soldiers — what it is to feel for weeks 
at a time the incessant gnawings of hunger. In all the 
range of human sensibilities there is no other feeling so 
searching and corroding as this. It clutches the very 
heart-strings, sours the temper, and makes a man desper- 
ate. 

"Shorty,^' said Si to his comrade one day, as they stood 
in the muddy trenches, peering at the circling line of the 
enemy upon the adjacent hills, "durned ef I don't b'lieve 
we kin lick them pesky rebils. I'd a heap rutber try it 
than ter lie here starvin' to death. Don't ye see I'mgittin' 
's thin 's a shadder?" 

"I knowed it 'd be rough on ye. Si," replied Shorty, 
"when the ajitant read the order 't we was ter be put 
on half rations. I c'n git along better 'n you 'cause I 
alius -was thin 'n' it don't take so much to keep my steam 
up. I reck'n ye don't weigh quite 's much 's ye did when 
ye jined the army, but ye're inpurtygood order fer soljerin' 
yet. Ye don't want only jest meat nough ter keep 3^er 
bones from tumblin' apart. I'm thinkin' it '11 be wuss yet 
'fore long 'f sutliin don't happen. Ye know our cracker- 
line 's all cut off. I 'low 't we've got ter do one o' three 
things — make a raise o' some fresh grub, git out o' this, er 
fight. I 'gree with ye, pard, that it xl be the best way ter 
pitch into them gray-coats some fine mornin' 'n' jest 
whale 'era. I b'lieve we c'n do it, fer the way the boys 's 
feelin' these days they'd wade through a solid mile o' 
rebels. When the gin'ral gits 'em started next time ther* 
can't nothin' stop em.'' 



454 



SI AND THE "GIN'rAL. 



Si was greatly edified and encouraged by Shorty's obser- 
vations. He almost felt as though he wanted to march 
up to the commanding general and tell him how he felt 
about it. He was restrained by the thought that if he did 
he would probably be put on extra duty for a week. 

While they were talking the general and his numerous 
staff in gorgeous uniforms, and with an overpowering dis- 
play of epaulets and gold lace, came riding along the lines 
on a tour of inspection. The boys saluted by presenting 
arms. Then the general alighted from his horse, examined 




CHEERS FOR THE GENERAL. 



the works, and talked cheerily to the soldiers. He was ev- 
idently in a pleasant frame of mind and Si felt emboldened 
to speak. He always had been somewhat deficient in the 
sentiment of reverential awe with which the soldiers were 
wont to regard those high in command. 

"Gin'ral," he said — and the smile on the face of the com- 
mander encouraged him to proceed— "ef ye'll give us a 
chance one o' these days 'n' let us go fer them fellers over 
yonder we'll warm their jackets fer 'em so the\^ won't fer- 
git it right away. The thing sort o' flashed 'n the pan the 
last time, but whenever ye says the word, Gin'ral, we'll 



A REBUKE FROM SHORTY. 455 

make 'em think the day o' reck'nin' 's come. All the boys 
feels that way." 

"That's theright kmd of talk, my bo}^" said the general, 
evidently impressed with Si's earnestness. " I do notdoubt 
that you mean every word of it and that you will do your 
full share the next time we meet them ; and yovi won't 
have to wait a great while, either." 

This declaration was received with great enthusiasm. 
A wave of cheers swept either way along the line until it 
was lost in the distance. 

"Ef I ain't presumin' too much, Gin'ral," said Si, touch- 
ing his hat respectfully, "I'd jest liketer say that the sooner 
ye turn us loose the better it'll suit us; 'cause I c'n tell 3^e 
fer a fact 't we've got ter scare up more grub, some way 
er other. I think it 'd be a good idee 'f we could trade off 
some o' the shoulder-straps 'n' brass buttons in this 'ere 
army fer hardtack 'n' sowbelly." 

"I don't know but you'reabout right !"said thegeneral, 
laughing heartily as he mounted his horse and galloped 
away. 

"I'd expect ter be tied up by the thumbs with a bay 'net 
'n my jaws 'f / sh'd talk ter the gin'ral like that!" said 
Shorty, as the staff went clattering down the line. "I 
wouldn't ha' da'st ter speak that way!'' 

"Mebbe I did put my foot in it," said Si, "but I seen 't 
he was good-natered, 'n' I thought 's how he'd take a 
little joke, even f 'm a corporil." 

"Ye wants ter be mighty keerful 'bout jokin' with the 
gin'rals, Si, 'cause it's ticklish business. There's a few on 
em' 't 11 Stan' it, but four out o' five 'd have ye strung up 
'n a jiffy- I don't say 't my advice 's wuth much, but 'f 
I was you I wouldn't try it on ag'in!" 

Si was a true representative of the volunteer soldier. 
When he entered the service he took the oath with a mental 
reservation that he would not, except in so far as he could 
not help himself, surrender his independence and his indi- 



456 ANOTHER SHLINKAGE. 

viduality. He couldn't help being Si Klegg in the army 
jnst as much as at home, subject only to the laws of war 
and the "Regulations." His thoughts were always active 
and his tongue ready to give them utterance. Sometimes 
it would have been better had he left things unsaid ; but 
his gallantry in battle, his faithfulness in the discharge 
of every duty, and his general good conduct as a soldier, 
fully atoned for his guileless violation, now and then, of 
the proprieties of military intercourse. If a soldier com- 
mitted a flagrant offense it could not be condoned without 
an entire subversion of discipline, so indispensable to the 
efficiency of an army; but his minor peccadilloes, not 
prompted by vicious motives, were overshadowed, in the 
eyes of most officers, by exemplary conduct in battle. 

The days and weeks wore slowly away to the soldiers 
of the beleaguered army. The subsistence of men and 
animals became a question of the gravest import. The 
enemy clung tenaciously to the railroad, and no trains 
could pass the frowning batteries and the phalanx of 
gleaming muskets. Desperate efforts were made to reach 
the army with supplies by ineans of w^agons over the 
mountains, for the rear w^as yet open, but the enemy's 
cavalry swarmed in the passes, and few of the vehicles 
reached the famishing soldiers. A large part of the rations 
thus sent only served to replenish Confederate haversacks. 

Si's heart sank to a point a few degrees lower than it 
had ever before reached, when an order v^as read one day 
directing that the troops be put upon quarter rations. 
The general in issuing the order sought to mitigate its 
severity by expressing his regret that such a measure had 
been found necessary. He exhorted the soldiers to bear 
their trials with fortitude, and assured them that relief 
was near at hand. 

"That kind o' talk 's all well 'nufif," said Si, when he 
and Shorty were condoling together over the hard times 
indeed that had fallen to their lot. "Of course the gin'ral 



IN THE DUMPS. 



457 



had ter say suthin, but it don't go very fur tor'd fillin' up 
a stomach 't hain't got nothin' in it. I don't like ter think 
o' peterin' out, Shorty, but it kind o' looks that way. I've 
been runnin' down ever since they cut our rations in two, 
'n' now they've quartered 'em I reck'n I'll go on a gallop." 
"Ye mustn't git down in the mouth, Si," replied his 
faithfiil companion. "It's tough, but we're goin' ter pull 
out o' this pinch. Ye've alius kep' yerself braced up so 
well 't I don't b'lieve ye'll weaken now. Every bod}^ has 
their dark da\'s once 'n a while, out o' the army 's well 's 
in it. It does seem 's though the soljers gits more 'n their 
sheer on 'em, but there's nothin' like keepin' up yer nerve. 
Spit on yer hands. Si, 

'^ "^"WL 'fllL^ TtTtfit' t f 



'n' take a fresh grip." 

" Don't ye be afeard 
o' my peggin' out, 
Shorty. Ye know I 
ain't in arnest when I 
talk that way. I can't 
help gittin' the blues 
sometimes, but I nevei 
lets 'em hang on long. 
J 'm goin' ter keep knock- 
in' "round jest 's long 's 
I kin, 'n' 'f it comes to condolence. 

the wust, 'n' I can't do no more, they c'n set me up fer a 
dummy ter scare the Johnnies. I've heerd 'bout dummies 
'n' wooden cannons 't was jest 's good 's the reel thing 's 
long 's t'other fellers didn't know they was a fraud." 

Still the days and nights dragged on. Hunger, grim and 
gaunt, began to leave its marks upon the faces of the sol- 
diers. Their hollow e3^es and shrunken cheeks attested 
the gradual impairment of their bodily strength. Men 
cannot long maintain their wonted vigor on quarter 
rations. There was no abatement of the duty that the 
emergency required. By day the troops filled the trenches, 




458 TAKING THOUGHT FOR THE MORROW. 

and by night a thousand sleepless eyes watched at every 
point the flushed and vigilant foe. Very, ver}^ long were 
those midnight hours, midst storm and darkness, on the 
dreary outposts and along the well-trodden beats around 
the inner lines. 

Ye w^ho around peaceful firesides enjoy the fruits of that 
four 3'ears' struggle know little of the fearful cost ! 

The dauntless spirit of the army was unbroken. No 
word of complaint was heard. When privation and hard- 
ship were unavoidable the sound of murmuring was hushed. 
It was when things might have been better, and the hard 
tot of the soldiers w^as made harder still by ignorance or 
mismanagement, that grumbling and cursing w^ent up in 
loud and discordant chorus. 

It was a wise order that the general issued when he 
directed that the attenuated rations should be issued daily. 
If issued once in three days, as was the usual custom, there 
were few who would not, impelled by the cravings of 
hunger, consume their scanty allowance by the end of the 
first or second day, and have absolutely nothing until the 
next issue. 

It will not be difficult to understand the value of this 
system in such cases as that of Si Klegg. As long as he 
had anything in his haversack he could not help eating it. 
Up to this time he and Shorty had continued to "pool" 
their supplies, and eat their scanty meals together, out of 
the common stock. It was no doubt true that this ar- 
rangement was more advantageous to Si than to his 
comrade. He did not intend to eat more than his share, 
but such was the fact. "When in the enjoyment of Uncle 
Sam's full bounty of hardtack and its concomitants it 
made no difference, as there was enough ; but at this time 
the question of equity was a serious one, that could not 
well be ignored. Si was conscious of his w^eakness, and 
that he might not defraud his comrade he proposed that 
until the "cracker line" was opened again each should take 



A PINCHING TIME. 459 

his own pittance for himself. Shorty demurred, in the 
kindness of his heart, but Si insisted that it should be so, 
and so it was. 

The same plan was generally adopted among the sol- 
diers. For the time "messes" were almost unknown. 
The orderh^ divided the rations /?ro rata, by careful meas- 
urement, to the various squads, and they were again ap- 
portioned to each man. The few crackers were evenly 
distributed; the meat was cut into little blocks with 
mathematical precision; sugar and rice were doled out 
with spoons ; coffee, most precious of all, became so scarce, 
and the rations so small, that the grains were scrupulously 
counted off to each man, that he might receive his full 
share. Much of the hardtack was mouldy or worm-eaten ; 
dnd the rancid bacon was bored throuijh and through 
with maggots that, to the last moment, disputed theclaim 
of the soldier to the repulsive morsel from which, under 
other circumstances, his stomach would have revolted. 

Everything within the lines that could eke out the stinted 
fare had long since disappeared. In front were the bristling 
battalions of the enemy. The barren hills i.i the rear, 
separated from the army b}^ the wide river, had been 
scoured by the cavalry of both armies, and nothing in the 
way of forage for man or beast remained. Alany of the 
animals died of starvation. Horses and mules on the 
verge of dissolution were killed by the desperate soldiers, 
and their almost meatless bones were boiled and scraped 
as clean as if bleached by sun and storm. Kernels of corn 
w^ere picked from the dung-heaps and eaten with avidit}-. 
With magnificent heroism the men endured this crucial test 
of their patriotism and fidelity. Day and night they went 
through the round of arduous dut}^ now and then ex- 
changing defiant shots with the hostile pickets; dav and 
night hunger gnawed more and more fiercely at their vitals; 
day and night they grew weaker and fainter, and longed 
and praj^ed for relief The hospitals were filled to over- 



4-60 GLAD TIDINGS. 

flowing with those who could no longer endure the strain. 
Doctors and nurses sought in vain to relieve their suffering. 
It was food they needed, and the supply was all too small to 
restore those famished bodies. Death was busy, and every 
day the solemn processions moved out to the populous 
city of the dead. The scenes in that suffering army were 
only exceeded by those in the ghastly prison stockades of 
the South. 

Si's strong constitution and indomitable pluck carried 
him through. He lost a good many pounds of flesh, and 
spent a large part of his leisure time in trjnng to figure 
out how long he would be able to stand it, but not once 
did he join the squad that each morning responded to sick- 
call, nor did he miss an hour's duty. 

"I've got some bully nev^s, Shorty," said Si one day. 

"What's up now?" asked Shorty. 

"I heerd 'ein say that over yonder a few miles the coun- 
try 's jest alive with soljers that's come down ter give us 
a lift. I don't know whar they's from, ner I don't keer, 
but they're old vet'rans 'n' there's lots on 'em. I reck'n 
we'll git some grub purt\^ quick, 'n' then won't we make 
them Johnnies hunt their holes ?" 

Not for weeks had so genuine a smile played over Si's 
wasted face. The welcome news had wrought him up to 
a high state of excitement over the double prospect of once 
more having his appetite satisfied, and of getting another 
opportunity to "go for" the rebels and get even with 
them for cutting off his supplies. It .would not be easy to 
say which afforded him the greatest satisfaction. 

"I hope it's true," said Shorty, "but I'll bet you a daj-'s 
ration o' hardtack that it's only nother o' them ' grape- 
vines.' Ye know w^e've been hearin' that sort o' yarns 
every few days fer a month, 'n' they didn't 'mount t' 
nothin'. Ye can't make me b'lieve it t'U I sees 'em 'th my 
own eyes." 

"Grape-vine dispatches" was the name given to the 



WELCOME TO THE LOCOMOTIVE. 4f61 

wild, sensational rumors that were alwaA's circulating 
through the arm}-. They grew rapidly and enormously as 
the\" passed from mouth to mouth and from one regiment 
to another. Important war news was usually made 
known to the soldiers through orders from headquarters. 
Even these official bulletins often appeared to have been 
written by Baron Munchausen. 

"Thar goes some o' the new chaps, now," said Si, as a 
group of healthy officers and orderlies dashed b\'. "I kin 
tell by their looks ; they're 's fat 's pigs. D'ye s'pose they'd 
ha' been that wa}' f they'd been here fer a month back 
Hvin' — er rather dyin' — on starvation fare? No-sir-ee!" 

Shorty -was forced to admit the plausibility of Si's theory, 
conceding that there might, after all, be some foundation 
for his exuberance of spirit. 

Too-o-o-o-t! Too-o-o-o-t! It was the whistle of a 
locomotive. 

"D'ye hear that? What 'd I tell ye?" exclaimed Si, jump- 
ing to his feet, swinging his cap, and beginning to yell 
with all the strength he could command. Although it 
lacked some of the vigor of other days, when haversacks 
were full, no yell that had ever before escaped his lips 
sedmed so to come from the depths of his inmost soul. 

"Hooray fer the bullgine! Hip! Hip! Hooray fer the 
hardtack! Whoop — Wh-o-o-o-o-oop ! Ki-yi! Tiger-r-r-r!" 

If any one is disposed to think that Si's tempestuous en- 
thusiasm w^as inappropriate to the occasion, let him with- 
hold his judgment until he has " been there." 

The effect of that longed-for and pra\'ed-for whistle 
upon the arm}- was like that of a shock from a galvanic 
battery. In an instant everybody, from the generals down, 
was 3^elling and shouting and cheering. It was as if bedlam 
itself had been let loose in all the camps. The noise would 
have drowned the screams of a hundred locomotives. Men 
danced and sang and laughed until the tears streamed 



462 



A GOOD REASON FOR YELLING. 



Si Klegg was no more 



down their hunger-pinched faces, 
of a lunatic than all the rest. 

Succor had come at last. Large reinforcements for the 
besieged and starving army, ordered thither from other 
departments, had arrived. These swiftlj-moving columns 
had brushed away the force of the enemy that occupied 
the railroad, and the "cracker-line" was open once more. 
Close upon their heels came long trains of cars freighted 
with food, clothing, forage, and other munitions of war. 
As the cars rolled into the town the soldiers yelled again, 
and kept yelling, until they could yell no longer. 

Si told Shorty that 
althotigh his m o s i 
pressing immediate 
need was provisions, 
he hoped they had 
not forgotten to bring 
along plent}^ of pow- 
der and lead so that 
the soldiers might take 
their revenge upon the 
rebels who had re- 
duced them to sflch 
dire extremity and 
gloated over their 
woe. 

As some of the fresh troops marched in, bearing aloft 
their faded flags, that had been carried through many a 
storm of battle on distant fields, they were greeted with 
such shouts as do not often fall upon the ear of man. Re- 
sponsive cheers were heartily given while banners waved 
and hats were flung high in air. 

It took little time to unload the cars. For this duty 
details were made from the newly-arrived troops. Strong 
arms and willing hands quickly heaped the wagons that 
■^vere provided to convey the boxes and barrels of supplies 




MiS^ 



REINFORCEMENTS. 



THEY HELP THEMSELVES. 



463 



to the camps. Soldiers never worked with more alacrity 
than when exerting themselves for the relief of suffering 
comrades. The mule-drivers cracked their whips and 
drove rapidly to the various brigades. 

"Volunteers, fall in to draw rations!" shouted the 
orderly of Company Q. The entire company responded, to 
a man, with another wild yell. 
/ 




THE RUSH FOR RATIONS. 



For once red-tape was thrown aside, and there was no 
systematic "issue,'' according to regulations, of so many 
ounces per man. Squads from the different regiments 
were in waiting, and as the contents of the wagons were 
dumped upon the ground some seized boxes of hardtack, 
and "slabs" of bacon, while others knocked in the heads 



464 j_ "square" meal. 

of 1)arrels, filled camp-kettles and horse-buckets >vith 
coffee and sugar, and away they went. The cracker boxes 
were quickly "busted" and the ravenous soldiers were 
told to help themselves. 

"Thar!" exclaimed Si, as he and Short}' flung down a 
box of hardtack with such force as to break it open, "them 
rebils thought they had a purty good hand, but we've 
made 'high, low. Jack' a-readj^ 'n' in a day er two we'll 
give 'em a lively tussle fer the 'game." We've jest got the 
keerds ter do it with nov^!" 

While Si was indulging this patriotic outburst he had 
stuffed his pockets full of hardtack and slashed off" a liberal 
supply of bacon. Shorty in the meantime had filled two 
tin cans with sugar and coffee, and they at once set about 
active preparations for the first "square meal" they had 
had in many a day. With a cracker and a slice of raw 
bacon, from which they took alternate mouthfuls, in one 
hand, they kindled a fire with pieces of the box, and in ci 
few minutes had a quart or two of steaming coffee. Each 
man preferred to make his own, as this could be clone so 
much more quickly than to boil a camp-kettle, with a 
supply for the company. 

^' Don't that coffee taste good, Shorty?" said Si, as he 
quaffed the fragrant elixir from an old cup that was black 
with long usage. "An' them hardtack, I don't keer 'f 
they was baked B. C, they goes right to the spot." 

Shorty attended strictly to the business in hand, leaving 
most of the talking to Si, who could talk and eat at the 
same time without prejudice to either. It took a good 
while to fill the vacuum that had so long existed under their 
blouses. At length they could eat no more. Si arose with 
a feeling of internal comfort to which he had long been 
a stranger. 

"Look at them britches. Shorty," he said, with a broad 
smile of satisfaction, as he tenderly placed his hand where 
his body was distended by the large deposit of commissary 



ON THE OUTPOSTS. 4G5 

supplies, "this 's the fust time 'n a month 't I've come 
anywheres nigh a-fillin' of 'em. They've been flappin' 
'round me 's if I was a scarecrow stuck up 'n a cornfield. 
I'd a-had ter take a reef in 'em 'f the grub hadn't come. 
My legs 'n' arms 's purty thin 'n' I reck'n my face 's a leetle 
peaked, but 'twon't take me long ter fill 'em out 'f they 
keep the cracker-line open. I hain't had no glass ter look 
at myself lately, 'n' I'm glad on it, but I c'd feel the bones 
stickin' out." 

There was feasting all through the camps. The con- 
sumption of rations exceeded anything that had ever 
before been known in the history of that army. Men on duty 
were not forgotten by their comrades, who supplied them 
liberally with food and flagons of coffee. 

The next morning it was Company Q's turn to go on 
picket. With plent}^ of rations in their haversacks, the 
men marched with light step to their posts of duty. Si 
was stationed on the bank of a stream, on the opposite 
side of wdiich were the rebel pickets. By tacit agreement 
a spirit of comitj^ prevailed along the outposts, and the 
sentinels refrained from firing at one another, so long as no 
active military operations were in progress. The shoot- 
ing of a picket under such circumstances was barbarous. 
It coidd have no possible effect upon the result of a cam- 
paign, and was simply murder, without the excuse that 
actual conflict gives to man to kill his fellow. This prin- 
ciple w^as generally recognized on both sides during periods 
of inaction, and rarely was it violated. 

The two or three men who were with Si had scarcely 
more than disposed themselves behind the little barricade 
— built for a protection in case the other fellows should 
break the implied contract — when a call from the other 
bank was heard.* 

* '^he dialog which follows, between Si and the Confederate, is sub- 
stantially the same as the writer listened to one day in 1863. It is as 
nearly a reproduction as memory can recall. It illustrates the state of 



^6b 



A SUSPENSION OF HOSTILITIES. 



"Hello, Yank!" 

" Hello, Johnn}^ !"" responded Si. 

"I 'low you-all ain't goin'fer to shoot a feller this mornin,' 
ar'ye?" 

"No, not 'nless 3^ou goes to pepperin' vs. Ef you begins 
It ye'd better look out, fer we've got some fresh catridges 
— sure pop every time !" 
"All right, Yank, that's a go. Lay down yer shootin' 

iron 'n' come outen 
yer hole. Squat down 
on the bank 'n' less 
talk it over." 

In such cases a sol- 
dier's word could be 
taken with s a f e t y , 
whether he wore the 
blue or the gray. Si 
was in good spirits, 
and in the humor for 
a little chaffing. He 
at once went out and 
sat down at the edge 
of the stream, which 
was not wide, and a 
Confederate soldier, 
unkempt and un- 
' ^^ 'v-'^.- shaven, clad in "but- 

"hello, johnny!"— "hello, yank!" ternut," came out on 
the other side. The latter opened the interview : 
"Got plenty o' grub now, hain't ye?" 
"Bet yer life!'' said Si.- 

"Been pinched right smart 'long back, I reck'n." 
"Wall, we could ha' et more 'f we'd had it. but we man- 
feeling that under sucli conilitions existed between men who at other 
times sought to take one another's life in the fierce conflict of battle. It 
was one of the anomalies of the war. 




YANK AND JOHNNY. 467 

aged to wiggle through. I think it was mighty mean of 
you fellers ter cut our cracker-line 'n' keep it cut so long. 
We don't mind bein' short a day er two once 'n a while; 
it jest gives us a good appetite fer army grub. But ye 
spread it on most too thick this time, pard !" 

"Oh, it's all fair 'n war, ye know; we-uns 'lowed ter 
squeeze you-all t'll ye'd have ter cave in er climb out o' 
that. We had ye foul, 'n' we'd ha' done it 'f ye hadn't 
brung down them other Yanks to help ye out. I heerd the 
gin'ral say myself 't ye couldn't stan' it much longer. I 
reck'n it sort o' sickened him when he heerd the ke-yars 
a-tootin' y istuday. Some o' the boys was savin' that you- 
all was gittin' reinforced big, 'n' when the whistles blowed 
we knowed the jig was up. But all the same w^e're goin' 
ter git a twist on ye one o' these da^^s." 

"Don't be too sartln o' that," said Si. "The boys 's 
purty mad 'cause ye cut off their s'plies 'n' ye hain't seen 
no sich fightin' yet 'n this 'ere war 's they'll show ye nex' 
time they gits a hackle at ye. We're goin' right through 
ye." 

"Wall, now, 'f I railly b'lieved that I'd think 'bout 
startin' now! But say, don't you Yanks do a heap o' 
blowin'?" 

"Mebbe we does, but we alius gits thar arter a v/hile. 
Ye know that, yerself. Ye don't do jest 's we want ye ter 
sometimes, but ye keeps backin' up all the time." 

"We've only jest been drawin'ye on. We've got ye right 
whar we want ye, now, 'n' we ain't goin' ter git back no 
furder. You put that 'n yer pipe 'n' smoke it. But I'd 
like ter know what you-all come down here ter fight us 
fer, anyway, 'n' tryin' ter steal our niggers. What good '11 
they do ye when ye git 'em?" 

"Now, pard, ye can't git me inter no argyment 'bout 
that, 'cause I ain't no politician. All I know 'n* all I want 
ter know is, that 3^ou rebels 's fightin' agin the flag o' 
ver country, 'n' anybody 't does that 's goin' ter git wal- 



4<68 COMMERCIAL INTERCOURSE. 

loped mighty bad. Abe Lincoln didn't set yer niggers free 
t'll arter he'd gi'n ye fa'r warnin'. Ye niout a-had 'em 
yet 'f ye'd laid down yer arms 'n' behaved yerselves. Now 
ye've got ter take the consekences." 

"That's all right, Yank. You're on one side 'n' I'm on 
t'other. We both thinks we's right. Ther' didn't nary 
one on us have anything ter do 'th gittin' up this war. 
Them as did stays ter home 'n' don't do no fightin' 'cept 
Avith their chins. You 'n' me don't want ter have no hard 
feelin's^ 'cause we kaint help it. Our cussin' 'n' 'discussin' 
don't 'mount to nothin', nohow. Saj^, ye don't want ter 
sling over a hardtack, do ye? We don't have none only 
what we gobbles f m you-uns, 'n' I'm gittin' dog-goned 
tired o' livin' on corn-dodgers!" 

"Wall I declar', Johnny, ef ye hain't got more cheek 'n a 
mule, arter cuttin' off our rations so 't we didn't git but 
one cracker a day, 'n' mouldy 'n' full o' worms at that. 
Ef a bullet ever hits ye 'n the face 't won't hurt ye any. 
The hide on it 's thicker 'n a 'noceros. I can't spar' 'em 
very well now 'cause I've been empty fer a good while 'n' 
I hain't got filled up yet. But ther' ain't nothin' mean 
'bout me. What ye got ter trade fer one ?" 

"Nothin' but terbacker. I'll throw ye a hunk o' that." 

"I don't chaw!" said Si. 

"Ye don't! What kind of a soljer ar' ye 'n' don't chaw 
terbacker?" 

" Some likes it 'n' some don't, 'n' I hap'n ter be one o' them 
as don't. But ye may toss 'er over; my pard, Short}-, he 
chaws 'nuff fer both on us, 'n' he'll be glad ter git it. 
Terbacker 's bin mighty skeerce, 'n' he's been doin' some 
tall growlin'." 

"Look out, here she comes !" 

The Confederate threw over a good-sized lump of ' 'twist," 
and Si sent a 4-inch hardtack sailing through the air. 

"I'm bleeged ter ye, Yank. If ye ever git 'n front o' my 
gun I hope it'll miss fire, 'n' 'f I ever take ye pris'ner I'll 



SI HAS SOME MORE " VIEWS." 4-69 

treat ye tip-top. I'd like powerful bad terhave some coffee 
'n' some salt. Ye hain't got a leetle ^^e kin tie up "n a rag 
'n' throw over, have ye?" 

"'Pon my word I hain't, pard,ner I hain't got no rag less 
I tear off" a piece o' my shirt. I guess ye'll have ter wait 
t*ll some other day. I reckon we'd better dry up now er 
the ossifers '11 git after us. Good-by, Johnny." 

''Good-by, Yank." 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

Corporal Klegg Bears the Flag of the 200th to Victory and is 

Wounded. 

i i C^ I, are ye hungry fer 'nother fight?" asked Shorty a 
^.^3 f^^v evenings later, as he sat by the fire, frying- 
pan in hand, carefully preparing a mess of " lobscouse " for 
supper. 

"Wall," replied Si, "I dunno 's I've ever felt 's though I 
was reely starvin' fer a battle sence that fust big one w^e 
had. That sorter took the edge off'n my appetite fer 
fightin', 'n' I reck'n it w^orked the same way with most o* 
the boys, 'cause they don't sa}' nothin' more 'bout han- 
kerin' arter it. I heern more o' that sort o' talk in one 
hour, right away arter we j'ined the army, wdien we was 
trampin' 'round the country tryin' ter find the Johnnies, 
than I does now in a hull month o' Sundays. Ye know 
'tain't nat'ral ter w^alk right up w'har j^e're likely ter git 
killed the next minnit. When a feller 's heerd the bullets 
a-buzzin' 'n' the shells a-bustin' right smart fer once, he 
can't very well help feelin' 's though he'd had 'nuff. Ther' 
don't nobody like ter have holes 'n his hide 'f he c'n git out 
of it. Ther' 's a few o' the boys 't alius manages to wiggle 



470 SI AND HIS "double." 

out o' goin' inter a fight, 'ii' I don't blame 'em 's much 's I 
used ter, 'cause I know how I feels myself. Course I don't 
think s' much 'bout it ^rter I'm in 'n' gits purty well ex- 
cited, but I tell ye. Shorty, every time I begin ter hear them 
pesky things a-zippin', I'd a heap ruther be hoein' corn 
'long 'th dad." 

"I hain't never seen ye act 's though ye felt that way," 
said Shorty. 

"It's the fust time I've ever told ye 'bout it, 'n' I s'pose 
ye've alius thought I was brave 's a lion, but I ain't. When 
we're goin' inter a fight, seems 'sif ther' was twoSiKleggs. 
One on 'em wants ter run mighty bad, 'n' ef I sh'd do 's 
he says I'd more 'n scoot out o' thar, every time. But I 
know we can't never lick the rebils that way, 'n' so I jest 
says to that other Si, 'Now ye've o-ot ter face the music, 
'n' I won't have no more o' yer white-livered nonsense. 
Ye can't git out of it, 'cause ef ye try I'll jest blow yer 
brains out, ef ye've got any.' That settles it 'n' I don't 
have no more trouble t'U the next time, 'n' then it's the 
same thing over ag'in. 'Pears like I never could make 
father feller — I mean the one 't ain't me — behave his- 
self I reck'n 't sometimes the wrong part 's the biggest, 
'n' that's what's the matter 'tha few o' the boys. They's 
made that way 'n' they can't help it. Ye know how I 
hates a coward — I mean one o' them critters that's so 
a-purpose, 'cause he don't wa/3tterbenothin'else — but some 
o' them as hain't got the sand I'm sorry fer. They don't 
mean ter do it but that t'other feller jest carries 'em right 
off. My sand'd ha' run out 'fore this 'f I'dha'/et it. There 
was that poor fellow 't they court-martialed and shot 
t'other day fer flingin' away his gun 'n' runnin' in that 
last fight. I don t reck'n ye've fergot it — I know I shan't 
right away — our bein' drawed up 'n a holler square while 
the detail o' soljers riddled him 'th bullets. I s'pose 
they've got ter have sich things in Vx^ar, but I tell ye the 
shootin' o' that boy 'n cold blood was the hardest thing 



HOW SHORTY LOOKS AT IT. 471 

I've looked at sence I've been soljerin'. I couldn't help 
thinkin' 't might ha' been inc, 'f I'd weakened a leetle bit 
that day o' the battle. Pity they couldn't ha" shot jest 
that part that made him run, 'n' there d been 'nuff on 
him left ter make a fust-rate soljer. I'm glad he didn't 
b'long ter Company Q, 'n' I'm gladder yet "t I wasn't one 
o' them as had ter shoot him. I'd ruther fight rebils fer a 
month hand-runnin' 'n ter ha' done that. It'd be a fust- 
rate notion 'f they c'd diskiver some way ter tell them as 
has got sand, when they're 'xaminin' 'em fer 'listin', and 
then bounce all them that's short. It 'dbe better 'n wait in' 
ter find out by tryin', after feedin' 'n' clothin' 'em so long. 
I'm afeard it 'd ha' been a tight squeak 'th me 'f they'd 
had a machine o' that kind the time the doctor made me 
peel mj^self." 

"Look out, thar, pard," said Shorty, "ye're lettin' the 
coffee bile over while ye're a-speechifjan'. S'posin' ye give 
us a rest now 'n' less eat supppr. This 'ere stuff 's done." 

"Ye was wound up fer keeps, w^a'n't ye, Si; I thought 
ye'd never run dowm!" continued Shorty, as they filled 
their cups with coffee, and made a simultaneous attack 
upon the heap of "lobscouse" which Shorty had emptied 
upon a tin plate that looked as if it had been dug out of 
the ruins of Babylon. "I didn't s'pose ye had s' much 
phlos'phy inside yer clothes. Lemme tell ye, Si, 'tain't 
nothin' agin a man ter be afeard, pervidin' he don't let it 
git away with him. That's the kind of a man you be, 'n' 
I tries hard ter be that v/ay myself. 'Cordin' ter my no- 
tion it's a brave man 't knows ho^v unhealthy 'tis 'mong 
the bullets 'n' shells but has got the spunk ter go right up 
into 'em w^hen the orders says so. That's the kind o' men 't 
makes stayers. The gin'rals goes 'long 'th the bo\'s — that 
is some on 'em does — but I tell ye they don't love them 
whizzin' things no more 'n you 'n' me does. But 's I was 
sayin' Si, I shouldn't be s'prised 'f we had a big scrimmage 
termorrer er nex' day. " 



4'72 TICKLING THE ENEMY'S FLANKS, 

"Well, I'm ready!" said Si, with quiet soberness. 

It was rarely that the men knew, save from their own 
intuitions, when a battle was about to take place. Some- 
times a fight was brought on suddenly and unexpectedly 
even to those in command. It was no doubt best that a 
soldier should not know beforehand that he was to engage 
the enemy. He was, perhaps, not always fully prepared 
to die, from a theological pomt of view, and yet he must 
be read}'— and willing — to meet death at any moment. The 
uncertainty of life, even under the most favorable condi- 
tions, was vastly increased in the army. Looking back to 
those awful years, v^hen companies and regiments were 
almost annihilated by successive fiery tempests, memory 
recalls with amazement the stoical indifference to which 
the soldier schooled himself. He came to look unmoved 
upon the ghastliest scenes, and in the excitement of battle 
the peril to his own life was scarcely remembered. 

When deliberate preparations were made for battle, the 
signs of the impending conflict were clear enough to those 
who kept eyes and ears open. Shorty had noticed 
these indications for a day or two and had readily formed 
the opinion he expressed to Si. It proved to be correct; 
nor had they long to wait. Even while they were talking 
the Union forces were moving on the extreme right and 
left to "feel of" the enemy. 

"Jest listen at that!" said Shorty, as a sharp rattle of 
musketry was heard in the distance, soon followed by the 
booming of artillery. "They're ticklin' 'em on the flanks 
to stir 'em up. You see 'f we don't git orders t' night that 
means business !" 

"We're goin' ter make them Johnnies skedaddle this 
time," said Si, as he jumped at the sound of the guns and 
began to put on his accouterments. " We're goin' ter git 
even with 'em fer keepin' our haversacks empty so long." 

Moved by a common impulse the men, w^ithout waiting 



AN ARMY SUPERSTITION. 



473 



for orders, seized their arms and fell into line, to be ready 
for whatever might happen. 

Si took a " deck " of cards from his blouse pockeb and 
gave them a fling, scattering them far and near upon the 
ground. 

"What ye doin' that fer?" asked Shorty, who had none 
of the sentiment that prompted the action. 

Indeed, when called upon to give a reason Si was unable 
to reply in a manner satisfactory even to himself, so he 
simpK' said he didn't know. 

"If ye'd kep' 'em in 
yer pocket 'n' a bullet 
sh'd hit ye thar them 
keerds mout ha' saved 
yer life," said Shorty, 
who looked at the mat- 
ter in a practical way. 

Even this suggestion 
failed to impress Si and 
he made no attempt to 
gather them up. He 
told Shorty that they 
were about worn out, 
anyway, and after the 
fight was over he 
would buy a new pack 
from the sutler. He was afraid his comrade would laugh 
at him if he should tell him that he did not want to be 
killed with cards in his pocket. 

Like thousands of other good boys, Si did not know the 
difference between an ace and a ten-spot when he went to 
the army. He had never turned truant when his father 
set him to digging potatoes, by stealing away to a neigh- 
bor's barn and playing seven-up in the hay-mow. He 
never gambled in the army, save when, only once, he was 
beguiled from the path of virtue by the seductive allure- 




A MISDEAL. 



474 SOLDIERS WITH PRESENTIMENTS. 

ments of "chuck-a-luck;''' but he learned to play caids 
purely as a diversion, to while away the tedious hours. 
On this ground he satisfied his conscience; yet he never 
came to consider a pack of cards as a means of grace. 

Si was not the only soldier to whose mind the sound of 
guns brought such feelings. Often the ground in rear of a 
line moving to battle was as thickly strewn with well- 
worn cards as if they had snowed down. Many of the 
boys waited until they were sure there was going to be a 
fight, only flinging away their cards when there was no 
longer a reasonable doubt on that score. It was a good 
thing for the sutlers. After a battle, trade was lively in 
this article of merchandise. 

But there was really no occasion for Si to throw away 
his cards so soon, for the 200th Indiana was not called 
upon to do any fighting that night. As darkness settled 
down over the armies the firing on the flanks ceased. The 
pickets were reinforced and doubly cautioned to be vigi- 
lant. All through the camp orders were given for the men 
to lie upon their arms. Muskets and accouterments were 
carefully inspected, cartridge-boxes filled, and extra 
rounds issued to each man. Haversacks and canteens 
were replenished, brief letters were hastily written to 
far-away northern homes, and the army lay down to 
rest. 

There were always some who had, or thought they had, 
presentiments of death just before going into a battle, and 
it was their habit to place money, watches and other 
valuables in the possession of comrades who, they seemed 
to think, would be more fortunate, although in every 
respect as likely to fall as themselves. They did not on 
this account shrink from danger. Indeed there was no 
more sublime courage than that which carried a soldier 
with unfaltering step into the enemy's fire when he believed 
he was marching to his death. It is not probable that 
those whose minds were clouded by presentiments sulTered 



WATCHING FOR THE FOE. 475 

any greater ratio of mortality than those who \vere free 
from such forebodings.* 

There was another class the opposite of these, who did 
not believe — at least they said they didn't — that any mis- 
siles had been or could be made that would hit them. There 
were many times when to be fully persuaded of this \vould 
have been extremely comforting. The truth is, however, 
that the cruel bullets of the enemy made sad havoc with 
these pleasing hallucinations. But when a man was pos- 
sessed of this belief it was easier for him to be brave than 
for his comrade who was continually standing in a ceme- 
tery'- and looking into an open grave. 

Si Klegg did not belong to either of these classes. His 
mind was not shadowed by constant visions of death, 
nor did he delude himself with the belief that he bore a 
charmed life. In common with most of the soldiers, his 
first battle had given him a full realization of the danger, 
but he was ever ready and willing to meet it at the call 
of dut\\ It was this spirit of entire self-abnegation 
that made a man a soldier, with all that the w^ord 
implies. 

Long before daylight the army w^as up and in line 
of battle, standing at arms in the trenches. The men, 
elbow to elbow, grasped their muskets more firmly as a 
shot was heard now and then on the picket line. They 
heeded not the damp and chilling air as they peered with 
eager eyes into the darkness, to catch the first sign of the 
enemy's possible approach. Along the lines of the besiegers, 

* The writer was twice made the custodian of the effects of a comrade 
who was always sure he would be killed. The third time he had a pre- 
sentiment that the writer would be killed, too, and put his watch and 
money into the hands of another. The latter was tctken prisoner and 
the valuables were "ijobbled" by his captors. After that th«' comrade 
had no more presentiments and acted as his own treasurer. Pie went 
throvigh every battle in which the regiment participated and was not 
even touched. 



476 CALCULATING THE CHANCES. 

Upon the hills and ridges, the vigilant foe was watching. 
No fires gleamed on the crests. In the darkness and silence 
the two armies waited for the dawn that should usher in 
another bloody day. 

"Shorty,"" said Si in a low voice, as the first faint light 
revealed the neighboring heights, crowned with earth- 
works and bristling with cannon, *'ef we don't make thera 
fellers git off'n thar today I ain't no good at guessin'. 
They've been a-havin' things purty much 's they wanted 
'em fer a while back, 'n' now it's owr turn. All we wants 
is fer the gin'rals ter jest give us a chance." 

"We'll wait 'n' see," replied Shorty. '"Twon't be no 
easy job, I c'n tell ye, ter go up them hills 't they've been 
fortifyin' all the time we've been lyin' here, 'n' the Johnnies 
swarmin' 'n the works 'n' pourin' down bullets 'n' grape. 
We'll try it ef the gin'ral says so, but I hain't no longin' 
arter that sort o' thing. Ther' '11 be a good many on us 't 
wont git ter the top 1 ' ' 

Si did not answer, but stood, with serious face, looking 
earnestly toward the heights on which lay the hostile 
army, as if calculating the probable result of a mighty 
rush upon the foe. 

" Half an hour for breakfast !" 

The daylight had fully come, and one wing of each regi- 
ment at a time was directed to retire a short distance for 
the morning meal. 

'"Eat hearty, boys," said the orderly of Company 0. 
"Looks like we'd got business on hand, an' we may not 
git nother chance 'fore night." 

Hastily, but quietly, coffee was made, and bacon toasted 
on sticks and ramrods. The men sat down in little 
groups, drawing crackers from their haversacks, and with 
keen appetites proceeded to strengthen themselves for the 
duties of the day. 

"I wonder how many of Company Q '11 be makin' coffee 
tomorrow mornin' !" said one of the boys. Although 



FOREBODINGS REBUKED. 



477 



nothing was known of the contemplated movement ex- 
cept by inference, it was well understood that a great 
battle was pending. 

"Now, pard, don't go ter talkin' that way," said Si, 
'"cause it makes a feller feel kind o' streaked, 'n' 't don't 
do no good, nohow. Soljers has ter fight er they wouldn't 
be soljers; 'n' some on 'em has ter git killed. Like'y 
'nufif it'll come 'round ter my turn today, but what's the 
good o' stewin' 'bout it ? Comp'ny Q 's goin' ter git thar 
'f any on 'em does, 
'n' I calkerlate to 
be up 'mong the 
boys 'nless suthin 
stops me. The 
200th Injianny 
hain't done nothin' 
yet ter be 'shamed 
of, 'n'ldon'tb'lieve 
she w^ill -when we 
go fer them raskils 
't cut our cracker- 
line." 

Si's words of cheer 
and hope were not 
without their effect, 
and the dismal in- 
quiry suggested by 
his comrade was not pursued. 

Before they had finished their breakfast every ear was 
startled by the boom of cannon, with sharp successive 
volle3'^s of musketry two or three miles to the right and 
left. The movement had begun simultaneously on both 
flanks. 

"Thar goes the music!" exclaimed Shorty. "Choose 
yer pardners fer the dance !" 

"I jest hope we c'n make them rebils sashay ter the 




BREAKFAST BEFORE THE FIGHT. 



478 "we're drivin' 'emI" 

rear I" said Si, as he poured down the last of his coffee and 
seized his musket. 

To the right and left the firing each moment grew heav- 
ier, telling that the storm had burst. The men hurried 
back to their places at the front, and stood with every 
nerve and sense strained to the utmost. Nothing could 
surpass the intensity of eargerness with which they 
watched for tidings of the conflict. 

"How s it goin'?" was asked by a hundred voices of 
an orderly who went dashing by. 
"They say weVe drivin' 'em !" was the answer. 
"I knowed it !" said Si, as he swung his hat and joined 
in the yelling that followed this announcement. Whether 
true or not it raised the spirits of the soldiers to a high 
pitch. 

Si yelled and shouted whenever he saw or heard any- 
thing that stirred his emotions. He had never before felt 
so strong a personal interest in any battle. Aside from 
his devotion to his bleeding and distracted country, his 
sufferings from hunger, during the weary weeks, for which 
the rebels were responsible, were to be avenged. 

"Now they're goin' fer 'em!" he shouted, when the 
sharp firing indicated hot work. "Give 'em — " In his ex- 
citement Si came very near uttering a word that always 
seemed to fit in such cases — the "Revised Version" had not 
yet softened it into "gehenna" or "sheol" — but remember- 
ing the teachings of his early j^outh and switching off his 
tongue just in time, he only said: "Give 'em Hail Colum- 
bia!" This was patriotic, and on the whole satisfactory 
as an expression of his feelings. 

Now the order was passed along the line to be prepared 
for an advance at a moment's notice. There was little occa- 
sion for this, as every man in that impatient army was 
ready and eager to go forward at the word of command. 
The increased roar of artillery and the sharp rattle of 
musketry told of fierce fighting on the flanks. As the 



THE BUGLES SOUND "FORWARD." 479 

direction of the sound indicated the steady advance of the 
Union forces, cheer after cheer swept through the compact 
battalions that formed the center. 

"Look there, boys, quick ! ' exclaimed Si, his eyes flash- 
ing with excitement, as he pointed to the loftiest height 
that had been long occupied by the besieging host. 

In an instant all eyes were fixed upon the point. The 
scene was one to make the blood leap through a sol- 
dier's veins. On the summit could be seen the smoke of 
battle and the rebels giving way before the victorious 
blue-coats. Flags were dimly discerned that the soldiers 
knew were the stars and stripes. Forty thousand men 
looked upon the glorious spectacle, and fort^^ thousand 
voices joined in a shout of gladness that rolled in billows 
along the lines, filling the air with its mighty volume, and 
echoing from the surrounding hills. 

Now is the time for a general advance. Never were sol- 
diers in fitter mood for deeds of supremest valor. 

A bugle sounds at army headquarters. Through all the 
divisions and brigades men who have long stood waiting 
for this signal raise their bugles to their lips and the shrill 
notes ring out upon the air. 

** Forward!" is the word. It Is the only thought in the 
breast of every soldier. The men leap over the works, 
and the long line, with flags waving and muskets flashing 
in the sunlight, moves steadily and grandly on. 

" Battalion — Double-quick — March! " shouts the colonel 
of the 200th Indiana. The regiment, in prompt obedi- 
ence, advances rapidly until the proper distance is reached, 
when it is hastily deployed into a heavy skirmish-line, 
covering the brigade front. 

Half a mile away are the enemy's pickets. Beyond, 
skirting the foot of the range of hills, are the rifle-pits, 
behind which, with loaded muskets, the rebels are awaiting 
the onset. The high ridge is surmounted by works that 
many thousands of men have been weeks in building. A 



480 



LIE DOWN 



hundred cannon, double-shotted, peer angriJy through the 
embrasures. Behind them, swarming in the trenches, is 
the main body of the Confederate army. 
"Halt— he down!" 

Half the distance to the enemy's pickets has been trav- 
ersed. The final disiDosition of the troops is not fully 
made and a brief halt is necessary. The men of the 200th 
throw themselves flat upon the ground. 

The bullets from the enemy's guns are already singing 
through the air. Now there are flashes of flame and puffs 

of smoke on the crest 
of the ridge. The 
rebel artillery has 
|; opened with omi- 
nous roar. Shells 
come screaming 
through the air, and, 
bursting with ter- 
rifying crack, send 
their ragged frag- 
ments whizzing 
among the pros- 
trate soldiers. 

"Steady, men, 
steady!" 

Few things that 
ever fall to the lot 
HUGGING THE GROUND. of man arc more 

severely trying than to lie, idle and helpless, under an artil- 
lery fire. At such a time the stoutest heart quails and the 
steadiest nerves twinge. The inexperienced reader may 
think this ought not so to be, particularly after he is in- 
formed that long-range artillery firing rarely sheds any 
blood. But let him not form a theoretical opinion as to 
how soldiers ought to demean themselves under such dr. 
cumstances. If his life passes without bringing to him an 




UNCOMFORTABLE MOMENTS. ^Sl 

Opportunity to lie and quietly enjoy himself in reading or 
smoking or sleeping while shells are bursting and tearing 
up the earth around him, let him be satisfied to accept the 
unanimous verdict of those who have learned froin actual 
experience and observation. 

Si wriggled uneasily and fairly ground his nose into the 
dirt as the swiftly-flyingmissileshurtled about him. When 
one of them struck uncomfortably near and sprinkled him 
with earth, he w^as for the moment on the verge of demor- 
alization. It was not that he was "afraid, "but he did not 
relish the idea of being under fire without any chance to 
shoot back. 

"I'd a mighty sight ruther go ahead,' hesaidto Shorty, 
"'n' pitch inter them fellers than ter lay here like a log 
w^hile they're heavin' their old iron round so promisc'us 
like. I sh'd think they mout ha' got things fixed 'fore w^e 
started so s we wouldn't have ter stop arter we got up in 
range o' them pesky guns." 

It was not to be expected that Si could comprehend all 
these mysterious ways. Such things often happened. 

The artillery fire was not wholly ineffectual. Some of 
the fragments did their ghastly v^ork, and here and tiiere 
lay a comrade, mangled, quivering and bleeding — dead ot 
writhing in pain. 

A staff officer dashes up and says that all is ready. 

"Attention — Battalion!" shouts the colonel of the 200th. 
Every man springs to his feet, impatient for the charge. 
'•'Men, I don't want j^ou to stop till yougetthose rifle-pits. 
Don't halt to fire, but jump right into 'em with cold steel. 
Fix — Bayonets! Go!" 

Now the soldiers are themselves again. There is no 
shrinking nor dodging, though faster and thicker come the 
bullets and shrieking shells. 

In the onward rush the alignment of the regiment is 
broken. The more eager ones dash forward, regardless o^ 
company formations, intent only upon reaching the enemy. 



482 



A SUCCESSFUL FLANK MOVEMENT. 



They know that when such a job is in hand " 'twere well 
'twere done quickly." Others do not get over the ground 
quite so rapidly. Perhaps the\^ are not less brave than 
those w^ho are forging ahead, but they do not see the use 
of being in such a hurry. Then, some men can run faster 
than others — when they want to. 

Si's legs are nimble and he is among the foremost, with 
the faithful Shorty at his side. On they go with flying 
feet, unmindful of the spiteful zip of bullets or the shells 
that burst above them Now and then a comrade falls, 
but none can stay to staunch his wound or receive his last 
words. 
The enemy's pickets are powerless to check the on- 
ward sweep. Some 
break for the rifle- 
pits, others stand 
to their posts 
until, overwhelm- 
ed by the tide, 
they yield them- 




/ 



<)^^\ 



YIELDING TO THE INEVITABLE. 



y{ selves prisoners. 
In front of Si 
and Shorty is a 
fortified post oc- 
cupied by two 
plucky rebels who 
are determined to 
hold the fort to 
the last extremity. The shouts of the charging troops are 
answered with loud yells of defiance. 
"Flank 'em, pard," says Shorty. 

Si dashes one way and Shorty the other, and in an in- 
stant their bayonet^areat thebreasts of the little garrison. 
"S'render, will ye?" yells Si. 

There is no escape, and they throw up their hands in 
token of submission. 



FORWARD TO THE CREST. 483 

"Now 3^ou git back ter the rear, lively. We're goin' fer 
some more o' you fellers 't cut off our s'plies. Come on, 
Shorty!" 

Away go the "Johnnies," while Si and Shorty join the 
grand sweep for the rifle-pits. Here the struggle is short 
but fierce. For a few minutes there is a stubborn resist- 
ance. The rushing tide flows over the embankment and 
down into the very trenches. Men plunge with their bay- 
onets and beat one another with the butts of their guns, 
their voices mingling in wild yells and imprecations and 
sharp cries of pain. 

Not long can such a scene continue. The rebels abandon 
the hopeless contest. Many surrender and others fly. 
The dead and wounded — blue and gray — are thickly 
mingled. 

There is a brief halt, while all along the line the air re- 
sounds with the shouts of triumph. The objective point 
of the order to advance has been reached. Shall the men 
stop here? There are no orders to go further. 

The pause has given them breath, and now, animated 
by a single thought, the impetuous soldiers again dash for- 
ward with a yell. On they go, up the steep side of the 
ridge, in the face of a hail-storm of bullets and canister 
from the enemy on the crest. Can mortal man breast this 
fiery tornado and live? 

Men fall by scores and hundreds before the deadly blast, 
but still on and up sweeps the audacious line. Shells are 
lighted by hand and tossed over the works, to roll down 
and make havoc among the assailants. Here and there 
the soldiers waver, but it is only for an instant, and again 
they push for the summit. 

How fares the 200th Indiana? It has kept its place at 
the front, and its fast melting ranks are far up the rugged 
height. The color-bearer falls. dead. Another carries the 
banner aloft, but in a moment he, too, is shot down. 

Now Corporal Klegg slings his gun over his shoulder an:l 



484 



THE CHARGE UP THE RIDGE. 




THE VICTORY WON. 455 

snatches up the blood-stained staff. With a royal will he 
waves the flag, shouts to his comrades to follow, and fairly 
leaps toward the crest. A missile strikes his arm and for 
a moment there is a keen sensation of pain. But he stops 
not — heeds it not. 

The standard is riddled by bullets, but it waves farther 
up the hill than anj^ other. It will not lose its place so 
long as Corporal Klegg is able to bear it. Inspired by his 
example, the men of the 200th who have not been stricken 
down follow close after. Behind them, and far to the 
right and left, thousands of brave men are crowding 
upward. 

The 200th reaches the top with aloud shout as Si plants 
its flag on the rebel parapet. The men climb over in the 
very faces of the rebels. The latter, dazed by the au- 
dacity of the charge, are seized with a panic and break 
in confusion. It is folly to fight against men who can go 
up that ridge in the teeth of such a fire. 

The day was grandly won. Prisoners and cannon in 
large numbers were taken. With \^ells and shouts the men 
pursued the fleeing enemy until exhaustion compelled them 
to halt. 

Si was rejoiced that Short}^ had not been touched. 
They embraced each other and tears of gladness flowed 
down their cheeks. 

The colonel came up to Si, shook his hand warmlj^, and 
complimented him in the highest terms for his gallantry. 
"I am proud to command such men," he said. Noticing 
blood on Si's arm, the colonel asked him if he was badly 
hurt. 

"Wall, I declar'," replied Si, "I'd fergot all 'bout that. 
I felt it comin' up the hill, but we was too busy fer me ter 
bother with it then. I reck'n 'tain't nothin' very serus." 

The clothing upon the arm was saturated with blood, 
and a hasty examination showeda serious wound. 

"You've behaved like a hero, mv bov,'' said the colonel. 



4-86 SI AT THE FIELD HOSPITAL. 

" but you must go at once to the hospital and have your 
wound cared for." 

Si had always dreaded the w^ord "hospital," but there 
was no choice, and he consented to go. As he turned away 
he said to the colonel : 

"I rayther guess we got even with them rebils for shuttin' 
off' our hardtack ! " 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

Si Spends a Night in the Field Hospital and Sees Some of the 
Horrors of War. 

SI spent the night as a patient in the field hospital. 
When he reached that place lie was met by the sur- 
geon of the 200th Indiana who had been detailed for duty 
there. Everybody in the regiment, from colonel to mule- 
driver, knew Corporal Klegg. 

"Well, Si, they've winged you, too, have they?" 

"I had ter take m}^ turn gittin'hit. I'm thankful 'tain't 
no wuss." And Si laughed good-naturedlj^as he looked at 
his arm. 

"Say, Doc," he continued, with that eas}' familiarity 
that characterized his intercourse with high and low, 
"this ain't nothin' but a scratch. You jest tie it up in a 
rag 'n' let me go back with the boys. That's a bulh' old 
musket I've got, 'n' if there's any more fightin' goin' on I 
want ter keep her blazin' away. I'd like ter pay up the 
raskils fer pluggin' me." 

"You're a good bo}'. Si/' replied the kind-hearted sur- 
geon, "and the 200th Indiana is proud of you, but you 
had better take my advice and lay up a while for repairs. 
You will come out all right, but your arm will be sorer 



THE doctor's verdict, 487 

than you think. You have been a good, faithful soldier > 
and I guess we had better send j'ou home for a few days." 

Home! The word touched a tender chord in Si's heart. 
Tears moistened his ej'es in an instant, as before them 
came a vision of that "dearest spot on earth,'' and 
thoughts of father, mother, sister and the one that made 
his slippers. How many long months — years they seemed 
—had passed since that tearful parting, the day the com- 
pany left for the war. His lips quivered and his voice 
trembled as he said : 

"I'd like ter be to home fer a bit, more 'n I can tell ye, 
Doctor. It 'd be almost 's good 's goin' ter Heaven. But 
I don't like ter go back on the old rijiment. Ef I knowed 
the boys wouldn't be doin' nothin' while I was gone I 
wouldn't keer so much, but I shouldn't never git over it to 
have the 200th Injianny gittin' any more glory 'n' me not 
there to do my sheer." 

"There's no danger that you will not do your part. Cor- 
poral. What we want now is to get your arm cured up. 
You'll get well in half the time at home. And I guess you 
won't object to having something good to eat for a change. 
You'll come back as fresh as a pippin." 

During the conversation the surgeon had carefully cut 
awaj^ the blood-soaked garments and made an examina- 
tion of the wound. It was an ugly hurt. The rough, 
eruel iron had torn away and mangled the flesh down to 
the bone. 

"I didn't know 'twas so bad," said Si, as he surve^^ed 
the injured part. "I didn't feel nothin' but a thump when 
that thing struck me. I reck'n I was a leetle excited 'bout 
gittin' ter the top o' that hill 's soon 's any other feller 
did, 'n' I couldn't think o' nothin' else." 

"I heard all about how you got there, "said the surgeon. 
*'Now don't let this knife frighten you. Si. That piece of 
shell made bad work and I'll have to do a little cutting to 
get it in shape so that it will heal." 



488 



DRESSING THE WOUND. 



" All right, Doctor, slash away ; only so ye don't cut my 
arm off; I can't spar' that, nohow. I knew some o' the 
boys has ter, but I'm goin*' ter keep mine hangin' to me 
'slong 's I kin. 'Pears ter me it 'd be a great scheme 'f they 
c'd raise a crop o' men fer soljers with three or four arms'n' 
legs apiece. Then a feller mout let some on 'em go 'n' have 
'nuff left so he c'd git along. No, Doc, I don't want no 
chloryform ner nothin'. I'll jest see 'f I've got 's much spunk 
's I think I hev." And as the surgeon began operations 

Si clenched his fists 
and his teeth. The 
surgeon trimmed off 
the ragged fragments 
of flesh, washed the 
wound tenderly, and 
bound it up with 
soothing remedies. 

" There, my boy," 
he said, as he fastened 
the bandage, "that's 
the best I can do for 
you now. You are 
in good health and 
spirits, and nature 
will do wonders for 
you. Many a poor 
fellow dies just because he gets down in the mouth." 

Who that marched and fought and endured does not 
know that a lightsome, plucky spirit was a perennial foun- 
tain of life and health. Fortunate indeed was he who pos- 
sessed it, and could meet with cheerfulness the privations 
and dangers and sufferings incident to a soldier's life. 
Nothing but the piercing of a vital part could kill such a 
one. He would fight off the grim monster and recover from 
frightful wounds, while his gloomy and desponding com- 
rade, who had received but a mere scratch in comparison, 




IN THE surgeon's CARE. 



A PICTURE OF iirDEOUS WAR. 489 

would pine away and die There were those who could be 
cheerful and laugh and even jest while enduring unspeak- 
able agony of body and in the immediate presence of death. 
Such men were worth more to their fellow-sufferers than 
a whole college of surgeons. The warmth of a few genial 
natures would diffuse itself through a regiment while on 
the weary march, in fierce heat or drenching storm or 
winter's cold, or suffering for want of food, and drive 
away the "blues" — the soldier's greatest enemy — from 
hundreds of aching hearts. Such a one was Si Klegg. His 
droll ways and cheery nature were a well-spring of happi- 
ness and health to himself and a perpetual blessing to those 
around him. 

The surgeon arranged a sling in which to carry the 
wounded arm, and Si began to look about to see if he 
could render assistance in alleviating the sufferings of 
others. He had never before seen the awful picture of w^ar 
presented by a field hospital just after a battle. 

The horrors of the conflict of arms, and the deadly work 
of hissing bullet and screaming shell are not realized by the 
participant, when every nerve is strained to its utmost; 
when every thought and emotion is dominated by the one 
overmastering passion of the struggle for victory ; when 
ihe e\'e looks only toward the foe, and the ear hears not, 
amidst the roar of musket and cannon, the cry of agony 
and the moan of expiring life. It is when the calm succeeds 
the storm, and the ghastly harvest is garnered in the hos- 
pitals, where, amidst the dead and the dying, the probe 
and knife and saw, plied by a hundred skillful hands, are 
busy during all the dragging hours of the night ; while on 
every hand are heard the screams and groans that pain 
extorts from the bravest hearts — it is then, and then onl}^, 
that there comes a full realization of the hideous barbarity 
of war. 

Si's sympathies were deeply stirred. His own wound 
was becoming painful, but he scarcely felt it as the strearH 



4-90 



AMONG THE WOUNDED. 



of sj'nipatliy flowed out toward those whose wounds w^ere 
so much more severe than his owm. All about him they lay, 
on cots and on the hard earth. The great hospital tents 
were filled, and mangled and bleeding men covered the 
ground without. Huge fires were burning at frequent in- 
tervals to aid the attendants in their work, and to take 
away the chill from the damp night air. The glare of the 
flames lighted up the dreadful scene. The surgeons and 
their assistants moved about with instruments and rolls 




THE FIELD HOSPITAL. 



of bandages and cordials. There were amputating tables 
— some built of rough poles laid side by side, the ends resting 
upon cross-pieces supported by forked sticks driven firmly 
into the ground — to which, one after another, were borne 
those whose limbs were so shattered by the battle's mis- 
siles that they could not be saved. Around them stood 
the operators, with hands and arms bared and bloody, in- 
tent upon their horrid \vork. 

Here a hand has been torn b}^ a bullet. Bone and mus- 
cle and tendon are crushed and severed. It has pulled 



KNIFE AND SAW. 491 

trigger for the last time. If it could heal at all it would 
be but ragged and shapeless, and it were better off. A 
cloth saturated with chloroform is held to the nostrils, and 
in a moment the wounded man is unconscious. There is a 
quick movement of knife and saw, the arteries are closed, 
the skin is sewed over the quivering flesh, dressings are 
applied, and the soldier awakes to find that he is crippled 
forever. 

He gives place to the next — a brave lad, jDale andfaintfrom 
loss of blood. A rough fragment of shell has crushed his 
foot, to the ankle, into a shapeless mass. There is nothing 
to do but to cut it off. Again the chloroform, the knife, the 
saw, the needle and the banda^-es. Five minutes suffice 
for the operation, and the boy opens his eyes to find that 
he must hobble through life upon crutches. 

Here is a man with a shattered right arm. He pleads 
piteouslj' with the surgeons to save it. They tell him it is 
impossible, and their judgment must direct. He refuses to 
breathe the stupef)ang anaesthetic, and with his other hand 
he pushes away the cloth that an attendant attempts to 
throw over his face. 

"I don't want none o' that!" he says. "I've got the 
nerve to stand it, and I'd rather have m}' eyes open and 
see what's going on. Saw awa}', Doctor, if 3'ou've got to!"' 

While the gleaming instruments sever bone and flesh he 
sings in a clear, steady voice, 

" Yes, we'll rally 'round the flag, boys, rally once again!" 

Men who lie upon the ground writhing with pain, 
wounded even unto death, catch the spirit of the brave suf- 
ferer. Here one joins in the song w^ith tremulous voice; there 
another greets with a feeble huzza the cheerful, patriotic 
sacrifice. The surgeons are accustomed to scenes of suf- 
fering and death, but their hearts are touched and their 
eyes moisten. In a few minutes only a stump remains. 

Here comes one borne upon a blanket. Handle him 
tenderly ! A bullet has plowed its cruel way through his 



492 



THE GHASTLY WORK GOES ON. 



thigh. It is a desperate case. Amputations so near the 
body are accompanied with extreme danger. He is an 
officer, who fell at the head of his company as he led his 
brave men over the crest of the ridge. The surgeons hold 
a hurried consultation. The bone of the limb has been 
pierced and shivered. The doctors shake their heads dubi- 
ously. They tell the patient that his only chance of life 
lies in the knife, and that the operation is likely to result 
fatally. 

"There is but one choice to make, " he says. "Proceed !" 

Ten — fifteen 
• twenty min- 
utes, for the op- 
eration is a seri- 
ous one, and he 
is carried from 
the table, weak 
iand exhausted. 
There is little 
hope that his 
'~ZZ eyes will see the 
morrow's sun. 
A man with 
one of his legs 
UNDER THE KNIFE. crushcd aud 

mangled is brought upon a stretcher. The overpowering 
pain has for the time dethroned his reason. He utters pierc- 
ing shrieks and yells, and resists with mad fury those who 
lift him to the table. A cloth saturated with chloroform 
is held over his face and in a moment he lies as one dead. 
Quickly the knife and saw do their work, a dash of water 
restores him to consciousness, and he is borne away to 
make room for another. 

And so, hour after hour, the ghastly work goes on, 
amidst screams and groans and sighs that are wrenched 
from unwilling lips. There are men with mutilated faces 




THE LENGTHENING ROW OF DEAD. 493 

— an eye gone, an ear torn off, a jaw crushed to frag- 
ments. Charging through that leaden hail, necks and 
shoulders were torn b}^ hissing btills. Here are men with 
pierced lungs — men through whose bodies in every part, 
bullets have passed. Many of those thus stricken down 
lie where they fell, on the rugged side of yonder ridge or 
beside the cannon that belched from its summit. These 
yet survive their awful wounds. A few — here and there 
one among them — will recover in a measure, and will live 
through 3^ears of suffering, and yet ever}^ moment in the 
presence of death. To the rest, upon whom the surgeons 
exhaust their skill in the hopeless effort to give relief, the 
final muster-out will come in a few hours or days or weeks. 

Far into the night the \vounded continue to arrive from 
the battle-field, borne upon stretchers or blankets or carried 
in the succoring arms of their comrades. They are chilled 
by the dews, and their reddened garments are as if starched 
by the stiffening blood that has flowed from their wounds. 
One by one they pass under the hand of the surgeons and 
are laid in rows upon the ground, where the nurses can 
serve them with food and water and remedies to allay 
their pain. 

One needs not to be told to tread with gentle feet as he 
passes through the tents and between the long lines of 
prostrate forms without. Death is all around. Here, 
there and yonder the breath comes feebly, and the heart 
beats more faintly with each passing moment. Ever and 
anon the flickering spark of life goes out in a breast that 
a few hours ago was bared to the battle-storm. The dead 
are removed from among the living. Here lie their pulse- 
less forms, each covered with a blanket. Tomorrow the 
spade will perform its sad office. A long trench will be 
dug and thev will be laid in, side by side, without shroud 
or cotfin, and the earth will be heaped above them. At 
roli -call their comrades will answer "Dead!" They have 
made the supreme sacrifice for country's sake. 



4.94 A WELL-KNOWN VOICE. 

Willing hearts and hands find plenty to do in attending 
to the needs of the patient sufferers. Men who bear arms 
cannot be spared for this. Their post of duty is at the 
front. Here is work for the non-combatants — chaplains, 
musicians, clerks and others. Their duty in time of action 
is to bear the wounded from the field and care for their 
wants, under the direction of the surgeons. Many of the 
injured who are not wholly disabled render such ser- 
vice as they can to their more severely wounded comrades. 

One of the most active and efficient among these was 
Corporal Klegg. Giving little heed to his own wound, 
hour after hour he passed from one to another, performing 
his kindly offices. There were many from his regiment, 
and to them he naturally devoted his efforts. His pleas- 
ant face and v^ords of encouragement brought cheer to 
many a sad heart. 

"Hello, Si!" 

It was a familiar voice, that Si would have recognized 
among a thousand. Turning quickly around he looked 
into the glad face of his friend Shorty. 

"I declar', old pard, I'm glad to see ye," he exclaimed, 
and his manner left no room to doubt the sincerity of his 
words. '*Whar 'd ye come from. Shorty? Seems 's 
though I hadn't seen ye fer a dog's age. Whar's the riji- 
ment at? Did ye have anj^ more fightin' arter I left ye?*" 

' ' I kin answer j-er questions better. Si, ef yell fire 'em 
one 't a time, and not shoot off a hull volley of 'em to 
oncet," said Shorty with a laugh. "I s'pose ye warn't 
expectin' ter see me, but I couldn't stan' it 'thout findin' 
out how bad je was hurt, 'n' how ye was gittin' 'long. 
'Tain't more 'n a couple o' miles to whar the rijiment 's 
lyin'. Ther' ain't no scrimmagin' goin' on; I reck'n the 
Johnnies got 'nuff today to last 'em over night. I 
axed the cap'n 'f I mout hunt ye up 'n' he said he didn't 
have no 'bjections pervidin' the colonel was willin'. I 
made bold to ax him 'cause I knowed he alius had a warm 



A CALL FROM SHORTY, 



495 



side fer ye, 'n' I didn't b'lieve he'd think any less on ye fer 
carryin' the flag o' the old 200th Injiannj^ up to the top o' 
that blazin' ridge. Jest 's soon 's I told him what I 
wanted he said right away, the colonel did : ' Certingly, 
my man, 'n' when ye git back' says he, 'come .straight ter 
my tent 'n' tell me how badly Corp'ral Klegg 's wounded. 
He's a brave fellow, is Klegg.' That's jest what he said, 
Si. Then he give me a pass 't he writ with his own fingers, 
so nobody wouldn't pick me up fer a straggler, slinkin' 
back ter the rear. I had a hard time findin' the right 
place, but I stuck to it 
'n' here I am, yer most 
'umble sarvint. Now 
how's yer arm ? That's 
the fust question I've 
cjot ter ax vou .'" 

Shorty's tongue was 
much like Si's in its 
tendency to run on, 
when once it got fairly 
started. By this time, f^ 
however. Si was get- 
ting well wound up, 
and was impatient for 
his turn. He will be 
readily pardoned for 
the undisguised pleas- 
ure with which he had listened to Shorty's recital of what 
the colonel said. 

"Ther' ain't very much the matter o' my arm. Shorty," 
he replied. "I tried 's hard 's ever I could ter have the 
doctor tie it up 'n' lemme go back ter the comp'ny, but he 
woukln't do it, nohow. He said I'd have ter lay up fer a 
while and he guessed he'd send me hum. P'r'aps ye c'n 
form some kind of an idee how glad I'd be ter go, 'n' yet 
I tell ye I'd ruther stay 'long with a'ou 'n' the rest o' Com- 




THE TWO 'PARDS.' 



496 ''two hearts that beat as one." 

panj Q. I don't want the 200th Injianny ter do anything 
'thout I'm thar ter help do it. Ef I do go, the boys ner the 
colonel won't think I'm playin' off, will they, Shorty? 
Ef I thought they'd feel that way I wouldn't budge an 
inch fer all the doctors this side o' Texas.'' 

"Course they won't, Si; ye needn't be noways 'fraid o' 
that. They've seen ye stan' up to the rack often 'nuff 
ter know better 'n that. I 'low ther' 's lots on 'em as 
wishes their gizzards was as full o' sand as yourn. Ye've 
arned a furlough, 'f anybody ever did, 'n' I'm glad ye're 
goin' ter git one. It'll be kind o' lonesome 'thout ye, 
Si, 'n' I'll be watchin' fer ye to come back. I shan't take 
no other pard under my blanket. That's your place, 'n 
I'll keep bachelor's hall t'll ye come." 

Si and Shorty were really so delighted to see each other 
that for the moment they gave no heed to their surround- 
ings. During their conversation they had walked a little 
way from the hospital ; but what their eyes saw and their 
ears heard soon brought them to speak of what was 
around them. 

"I'm 'fraid Company Q 'n'tlie rest o' therijimentgot cut 
up purty bad, didn't the^^ ?" asked Si. "Ye know," he con- 
tinued, "we didn't have no time ter look back 'n' see who 
er how many o' the boys went down ; 'n' ye know arter 
we'd got thar 'n' the rebs was runnin' every which way, 
the colonel jest made me come back ter the hospital. A 
good deal o' blood was runnin' out 'n' made my arm look 
w^uss 'n it reely was. I'm ever so glad you didn't git hit. 
Shorty." 

"Like enough it'll be me next time," replied his comrade. 
"I'd ruther keep a whole hide, but a feller can't expecl to 
be that lucky when the bullets is flyin' so thick. The 
wonder is 't anybody gits through 'thout bein' 's full o' 
holes 's a sieve." 

*'It does seem that way when ye stopfer think 'bout it," 
said Si, "but how 'd the rijiment come out?" 



shorty's good advice. 497 

"The boys is thinned out a good deal. The line ain't 
more 'n half 's long 's 'twas when we started fer the ridge. 
I 'xpect there 's agoodmany lyin' up thar on the hill, fer we 
hain't had no chance ter bury 'em yet. I s'pose'f we don't 
have ter fight some more we'll do that in the mornin'. I 
don't know all of Company Q that 's killed, but it was a 
heart-breakin' roll-call 't w^e had tonight. Some o' the 
wounded 's here, ain't they?'' 

"Yes, plenty on 'em," said Si. "I know 3^011 ain't so 
chicken-hearted 's I am, but I can't keep the tears f'm 
comin' in my eyes when 1 see how the poor bo\'sis suiferin'. 
Some on 'em 11 be glad ter see ye, Shorty." 

They passed among the wounded men and spolce words 
of greeting to their comrades. Shorty had been cautioned 
that he must not be long absent and felt that he must re- 
turn to his regiment. It might be called upon to mo\e 
at any moment. Before leaving he asked the surgeon 
about his comrade's wound, telling him that the colonel 
was solicitous about him. 

**Si is a noble boy," said the surgeon. 

"Yes," replied Shorty, "he's my pard, 'n' they don't 
make no better soldiers 'n him." 

"We all know that," said the doctor. "You may tell 
the colonel that Si has a bad arm and we're going to fur- 
lough him. He'll come back in a few wrecks as good as ever. 
Do you know that ever since I dressed his wound and got 
his arm into a sling he has been working hard helping to take 
care of these poor fellows ?" 

"Jest like him!" said Shorty. 

The latter rejoined his comrade and told him that he 
must say good-by. 

"Now, Si," he said, "when ye start back ye mus'n't let 
*em load ye down as they did t'other time. Tell 'em to 
keep all the good things t'll ye gits hum ter stay. I don't 
s'pose ther's anybody up thar 't cares a pinch o' snuff 'bout 



498 "TOM." 

me, but 'f ye sh'd happen to hear 'em axin, ye c'n tell 'em 
I'm a stayer. Good-by !" 

" Good-by, Shorty ! Tell the boys that I'll give a good le- 
portof'em, 'n' fer 'em ter keep my place fer me, 'cause 
'twon't be long t'll I'll want it." 

Shorty vanished in the darkness, and Si returned to his 
self-imj^osed work. 

There was one of his bojdiood companions, a member of 
Company Q, who lay desperately wounded. Abullet had en- 
tered his breast and passed entirely through his body. The 
surgeon had dressed his wound, but it was apparent that he 
had little expectation of being able to do more than afford 
temporary relief. When Si asked the doctor about his com- 
rade, he shook his head and told him that there was but one 
chance in a hundred that he would I've beyond a few- 
hours. 

"We'll do all we can for him, 3i,"said the surgeon, **but 
there isn't much hope. If j^ou can cheer him up it will do 
him more good than medicine.'' 

Si's heart went out in sympathy for his friend. He de- 
voted himself assiduously to doing all in his power to re- 
lieve his suffering. He almost forgot that one of his own 
arms was lying helpless in a sling. 

"Cheer up, Tom," he said, as he placed a canteen of fresh 
water to his lips. "Ther' ain't no use den^-in' 't ye've got 
a bad hurt, n' if my bein' sorry fer ye 'd do any good ye 
wouldn't be long gittin' out o' this. Ye must keep yer 
spirits up; that'll do more fer ye 'n anything else. Men 
gits well sometimes after the doctors has give 'em up, 
jest 'cause they says they will. The doctor told me ye 
had a chance, 'n' I want ter see ye make the most on it. 
It was mighty hot up on that ridge, but didn't we go fer 
'em? I tell ye ther' ain't nobody needs ter be 'shamed 
'cause he b'longs ter the 200th Injianny. Here, Tom. take 
a aip o' this." And Si gave him a spoonful or two c{ 



'*CHEER UP, comrade!" 49^> 

brandy which the surgeon had left with him for that pur- 
pose. 

"As I was sayin','' he went on, "ther' ain't none o' them 
rijiments any better 'n ourn, ef some on 'em has been goin* 
it longer 'n we have. Ye mind how them old soljers used 
ter poke all sorts o' fun at us when we fust come out? 
Mebbe ^^e've noticed lately 't they don't do it no more. I 
reck'n it's 'cause we've showed 'em 't we've got jest 's 
much grit 's they have. Ye behaved like a hero today, 
Tom, 'n' yer folks '11 be proud o' ye when they hears 'bout 
it. Now cheer up, 'n' ye'll beat the doctors yet, 'n' git 
home to tell 'em how bravely ye went up that hill." 

Si rattled on without expecting any reply or giving his 
comrade any opportunity to talk if he had wanted to. 
Tom lay with closed eyes, breathing heavily. Now and 
then a half-suppressed groan escaped his lips. At length 
he spoke, in feeble tones. Si bent over him to catch his 
words. 

"You're good to me. Si," he said. "I can't tell ye — how 
thankful I am to ye. It's the next thing to havin' — mother 
or — sister. Seems to me almost as if I — might have a 
show if they were here. I feel as though the touch — of 
their hands would ease this awful pain. It hurts more 
and more an' — I'm gittin' weaker all the time. I'm afeard, 
pard, I can't — hold out much longer." 

"I don't like ter hear ye say that, Tom, 'cause I b'lieve 

ye're goin' ter pull through. Ye'll feel better tomorrow." 

"Tomorrow — tomorrow," said Tom in a whisper, as if 

his thoughts sprang unbidden to his lips, "what — where 

will I be?" 

" Tom," said Si, "ye mustn't talk that way. I hope God 
11 let 3^ou git well fer the sake o' yer mother. It 'd break 
her heart ef \'e shouldn't. But ye'd better let me do the 
talkin' fer both on us. You lie 's quiet 's ye kin 'n' mebbe 
that pain won't be quite so bad. I wish I c'd help ye b'ar 
it. You've got more 'n yer sheer." 



500 THERE IS NO HOPE. 

At this moment one whose suffering had just ended was 
carried by to be laid in the fast lengthening line of the dead. 
Tom opened his eyes for an instant and caught a glimpse 
of the body and those who bore it away with solemn 
tread. His eyes closed again, and an involuntary shud- 
der passed over him. Si, who was holding one of his com- 
rade's hands in his, felt the tremor. He knew what had 
caused it. 

"Si,"' said Tom, in a low voice of unutterable sadness, 
**you saw 'em — go by just now — didn't 3'e?" 

Si did not reply. 

"They'll carry me out — like that — an' it can't be — very 
long. Perhaps they'll have to — take me next !" 

The surgeon stopped, while making his round, to see if 
aught could be done to stay the hand of death. He felt 
the feeble pulse, and laid his hand upon the clammy 
brow. Si looked at him inquiringly, but the doctor shook 
his head. There was no need of words. Si knew, as he 
had feared, that his friend would ere long be beyond the 
reach of pain. 

"Tom," he said gently, with a soft pressure upon the 
hand that lay within hi? own. 

The flickering firelight played upon the face of the dying 
soldier, who looked full upon the faithful watcher as he 
asked : 

"Did — the doctor say — I was — any better?" 

Si turned away his head, that his comrade might not 
see the tears that dimmed his eyes. 

"He didn't say nothin', Tom!" 

The wounded man summoned all his fast w^astlng 
strength to communicate to his companion the thoughts 
that had been running through his mind. 

"I knew it — would be so," he said. "I've felt it comin' 
ever since they — brought me down from that hill where — 
we fought so hard. I hoped it mightn't be that way —not 
'cause I ain't willin' to — give up my — my life as so many 



FAREWELL MESSAGES. 501 

others do but — for the sake of them that '11 feel bad VThen 
they hear I'm — dead. I'd rather have lived to go back to 
'em. But it's — all right. It may as well be me — as any- 
body else. Most of the boys has got — mothers an' sisters. 
You'll get — home in a few days an' I'm glad of it. I'm 
glad 3^e didn't — git hit no harder 'n ye did." 

"It 'd make me happier 'n ye can think, Tom, ef you 
could only go 'long with me." 

"It 'd have to be in a — coffin, an' they don't have any 
coffins here. Let me talk for a few minutes, Si — while I've 
got strength, for there's one or two things — I'd like to say 
before I go. You can tell 'em whether I done my duty or 
not — how I was lookin' right into the muzzles of the rebel 
guns when that — ball struck me. You was right there, 
too. An' be sure an' tell em that — we drove the rebels off 
that ridge an' captured the cannon. I b'lieve it '11 comfort 
'em some to know — I wasn't a coward. Here's my watch; 
I'd like ye to take that home an' — give it to father. 1 
haven't got anything good enough to send to — mother; 
but here's some money left from last time we was paid off. 
Give that to her an' tell her — to buy a ring or something 
she can always keep. You'll remember all I tell ye — won't 
ye, Si ?" 

"Of course — I will, Tom — every word," said Si, in brO' 
ken tones, struggling with his emotions. "An' I'll tell 
'em-" 

" Wait a minute. Si ; I ain't quite through yet. My time 
's short. I can't get my breath — much longer. I want 
you to take this pocket-knife. It's all I've got to give ye. 
You deserve something better, but it '11 do to remember 
— yer old comrade by. And, Si, there's one thing more. 
This — locket I've alwa\'s wore. Perhaps ye've got one 
yerself, an' if ye have ye know what a blessin' this has 
been to me. I don't need to tell ye who gave it to me — the 
day we left home. You'll know as soon as ye see the pic- 
ture in it. I want you to give it back to — to her, Si, an' 



502 



IN THE D\Riv VALLEY. 



tell her, if ye think it's true, that she needn't be 'shamed of 
the boy 't carried it on the march and — into the battle, I 
see red stains on it. You needn't — rub 'em^off. Mebbe 
she'd rather have it that way, 'cause — it shows 't I was up 
in front. Tell her I was thinkin' about her at — the last 
minute, while I was bein' — mustered out. An' when ye git 
well an' come back to the regiment, Si, I want ye to— tell 
the boys of Company Q good-by for me. Perhaps some 
of em '11 be a bit sorry 'cause — I had to leave 'em — this 
way. Tell the capt'n — " 

The effort to talk had been too much. 
There was a spasm of pain, for the 
pang had .reached at last the very 
source of life. The weary eyelids closed 
and there was a labor- 
ed struggle for breath. 
Si pressed the nerve- 
less hand of his com- 
rade and felt the weak- 
ening pulse. 

The surgeon passed 
that way and Si beck- 
oned him. A glance 
told him that the end 
was very near. 

"Caij't you do some- 
thing for him, Doc- 
tor?" said Si, in a low voice, choked with smothered 
sobs. 

"I would do it most gladly if it were possible, but he is 
beyond human power." 

Once more, for an instant, the eyes opened, glowing with 
a wild, strange light. In the last moments the mind wan- 
dered. 

"Come on — boys — right up— the ridge -there's our flas; 
^-we'll get — the gmisl'' 




DEATH OF POOR TOM. 



% 

MUSTERED OUT. 503 

At the instant of dissolution there was a flash of con- 
sciousness, and the quivering lips parted. 

" Good-by — pard ! Good-by — Doctor !" 

Very still he lay, and a restful look fell upon the whiten- 
ing face. The surgeon's fingers touched the pulseless wrist. 

"Poor, brave Tom is discharged," he said, as he brushed 
a tear from his eye. "You cannot do anything more for 
him. Si." 

By the light of the gleaming fires they bore away the 
bod\^ and placed it beside those lying cold and motionless 
under the sheltering trees. Si walked sadly after — a solitary 
mourner. He tenderly folded the hands across the quiet 
breast, drew the blanket over the face of his dead friend 
and pressed it gently around the inanimate form, as if to 
guard him from the chilling dews while he slept. 

And still went up to heaven that agonizing chorus of 
moans and cries; still moved about, hither and thither, the 
ministers of relief, intent upon their work of mere}'' ; still 
one and then another was carried to the place appointed 
for the dead. Over all the firelight shed its sympathetic 
glow^ ; while above and beyond was the deep darkness of 
midnight, as if it would hide the awful scene of suffering 
and death. 



CHAPTER XXXVII. 

Si Gets a Furlough, and is Surprised Beyond Measure to Finb 
Himself Famous. 

IT was long after midnight when Corporal Klegg, ex- 
hausted with the labor and excitement of the day and 
night, wrapped a blanket around him and lay down upon 
the ground, in the hope of getting needed rest. It was but 
little that he slept, however. He had felt and seen and 
heard enough to keep his thoughts occupied a lifetime. 
The scenes he had witnessed were yet vivid before his eyes, 
his mind was busy recounting the incidents of battle and 
hospital, with occasional pictures of home and friends, and 
his nerves were yet strung to so high a pitch that even his 
fatigue was not sufficient to quiet them. His wounded 
arm was becoming more and more painful, and he was just 
beginning to realize that he was badly hurt. His resting- 
place was under a tree a short distance from the hospital, 
whither he had gone that his ears might not be pained by 
the cries and moans of the suffering hundreds. He tossed 
about uneasily, dozing fitfully, and now and then starting 
up, affrighted by the distorted visions that disturbed his 
unquiet slumber. 

He was glad when daylight came. The chirping of the 
birds in the trees seemed a mockery, as he thought of the 
pain and woe and death that were so near. He got up 
and w^ent to see how his comrades were faring. Several 
more of them had died, while others were apparently 

504 



WITH THE AMBULANCE TRAIN. 505 

doing as well as their wounds would permit. For each of 
these Si had a pleasant greeting and words of sympathy 
and encouragement. 

Early in the day a long train of ambulances drew up at 
the field hospital, to convey to the rear such of the wounded 
as could be moved. They were to be distributed among 
the permanent hospitals, where they^ could receive better 
care than was possible in the field ; and the army at the 
front would be relieved of the incumbrance. As fast as 
the\^ were able to go large numbers of the wounded would 
be furloughed to their homes, where their recovery would 
be much more certain and rapid. 

The vehicles were soon loaded and started upon their 
journey. Si said he would take it afoot and let some one 
ride who was less able to walk than he. After a farewell 
word to those of his comrades who remained behind, he 
trudged off in rear of the train, with a few hardtack in his 
pocket to eat by the way, and a canteen of water at his 
side. The distance to be traveled was but a few miles. 

The surgeon of the 200th Indiana was one of those de- 
tailed to accompany the ambulances. As he rode slowly 
along he accosted Si : 

"I'm glad to see you doing so nicely, Corporal. I have 
something to tell 3'ou that I think may please j^ou. This 
morning I made application for immediate furloughs for 
half a dozen of the regiment, and yours was one of the 
names. The man I sent v/ill take the application right 
through brigade, division and corps headquarters to 'the 
general commanding the army ; and if the red tape doesn't 
get kinked anywhere I think you will get your furlough 
tonight. Ifit comes you can start home as soon as j-ou 
have a mind to." 

"I'm ever so much 'bleeged to ye. Doctor," said Si. "As 
I was tellin' ye last night, I'd a heap ruther stay by the 
rijiment 'f I c'd do any good, but it looks 's though I 
wouldn't be wuth nothin' ter handle a gun fer a while, 'n' 



>06 



VISIONS OF HOME AND HAPPINESS. 



I s'pose I mout 's well git out o' the way. 'Tain't 'cause 1 
doii't want ter go home, fer ther' never was anybody 
gladder to go 'n I'll be. D'ye think I c'n make a raise o 
some clothes when we git ter town. These old duds looks 
purty hard, 'n' I don't like ter go home lookin' like a scare- 
crow. I flung away my knapsack, so 's I c'd git 'long 
faster, when we was chargin' up that ridge yisterdy, 'n' 




I hain't got a stitch o' nothin' 'ceptin' what I'm wearin'. 
I'd like ter look sort o' scrumptious like." 

"We'll fix it so that you can draw a new suit, Si, and 
send you home in fine style. I'll just say to you that I 
haven't the least doubt that j^ou 11 get the furlough. I 
wrote that you were the man that planted the flag on the 
works. The colonel of the 200th will give it a good send- 



SI GETS HIS FURLOUGH. 507 

off, and I'll miss my guess if the general doesn't set the 
clerk to making out the papers in a hurry.' 

Si had been thinking that he ought to write a letter to 
his mother and one to Annabel. They would know of the 
battle and be anxious to hear from him. Now that there 
was a prospect of a furlough he thought it would be a nice 
thing to surprise them all. Should he be so fortunate as 
to start at once, he would be likely to reach home as soon 
as a letter. So he made up his mind not to send any 
word that he w^as coming. 

Before the slowdy moving train of ambulances reached 
its destination a galloping horseman overtook the party. 
It was an orderly bearing the furloughs that had been 
asked for. 

"Here you are, Si," said the surgeon, handing him one 
of those documents that a soldier so often wished for but so 
rarely got. " You deserve to have a good time and I hope 
you will." 

"Thankee, Doctor, "said Si. He could not say more than 
that. For the first time he knew- that he was going home. 
Up to this moment it had been only a dim unreality. He 
had so fully identified himself with the 200th Indiana, and 
so completely given himself up to the discharge of his 
whole duty as a soldier, that he had been perfectly sin- 
cere in the expression of his preference to remain wnth the 
regiment. It had been deemed best that he should go, and 
now a flood of tender thoughts rushed upon him. There 
were symptoms that his emotions would get the mastery 
for the moment, and he dropped back a little till he should 
recover his composure. As he came to a full realization of 
the privilege he was to enjoy, a happiness filled his heart 
that he had not felt for many a month. 

When the town was reached and the \vounded had been 
temporarily cared for, the surgeon made the necessary ar- 
rangements to enable Si to "draw" some clothing, and 



508 HE ^OULD NOT WAIT. 

the latter was soon arraA^ed in an entire ne^Y outfit, fr<^m 
sole to crown. 

"I don't suppose," said the doctor with a suggestive 
wink, "that 3'ou care to take 3^our old clothes home do 
you?' 

"Not much!" said Si. "If mother sh'd examine 'em 
with her specs on she'd go crazy. I'll jest burn 'em up. 
That's all they 's fit fer." 

Si learned, upon inquir}', that a train would leave that 
evening and he told the surgeon he believed he would start 
right off. 

"You had better get a good sleep and go in the morn- 
ing," said the doctor. " You need the rest and you'll have 
a hard time of it bumping around in those rough cars all 
night." 

"I won't mind that a bit." replied Si, "'s long 's I'm 
goin' to'rd God's country. It '11 give me that much more 
time to hum. It's a chance a feller don't have very often, 
'n' I'm goin' ter git all ther' is in it." 

The surgeon admitted the force of this reasoning and 
made no further objection. Carefully dressing Si's wound, 
he gave him a liberal supply of such things as it was likely 
to need during the long journey. He told him that any- 
body w^ould help him whenever he \vanted to change the 
dressing of his arm. Then he replenished Si's haversack 
and bade him a warm good-by. 

The train was composed of empty freight cars that had 
come down loaded with supplies for the army. The only 
passengers were the usual detail of guards and a few 
furloughed men and officers who, like Corporal Klegg, 
were impatient to be off. The severely wounded who had 
come in the ambulances would rest till the following day 
and then be loaded in cars of the same kind and sent 
northward. 

Si and a dozen others, mostly wounded men, were as- 
signed to a car. and by assisting one another they man- 



THE NEWSPAPER MAN. 



509 



aged, after much effort, to clamber in. The car had been 
ased, at no remote period, for the transportation of cattle, 
and little had been done in the way of disinfection. An 
over-fastidious person might have been disposed to grum- 
ble at such unsavory accommodations; but Si Klegg, with 
a furlough in his blouse pocket and his face turned home- 
ward, was as happy while breathing the noxious odors of 
that cattle-car as if his nostrils were being tickled by the 
"spicy breezes " that 

" Blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle." 

Just before the train 
started, a man — whose 
bearing justified the be- 
lief that he already had 
a title, in fee simple, to a 
good part of the earth, 
and wanted the rest — 
jumped into the car and 
bustled around among 
the soldiers. With note- 
book and pencil in hand, 
he took down the name 
and regiment of each, 
and the nature of his 
wound. 

"What's your name, 
young fellow ?" he said, 
with a patronizing air. 

" My name's Si Klegg, 

SJj- " THE WAR CORRESPONDENT. 

"What ! Corporal Si Klegg, of the 200th Indiana? " 

"Bet yer life I'm him. " 

"What ! The man that so grandly bore aloft, amidst the 
awful carnage, the star-bespangled emblem of liberty and 
equal rights and planted it on the ramparts of treason, 




510 THE DISPATCHES TELL THE STORY, 

while the roar and smoke of battle filled the circumam- 
bient air ? 

"I'd like ter have ye say that over ag'in, Mister, " said 
Si. "I can't understand yer hifalutin' talk. I'm Si Klegg, 
of the 200th Injianny, bein' as how ye wants ter know so 
bad." 

"Excuse my big words. I haven't got fairly cooled oiF 
from the excitement of yesterday, and for the moment I 
thought I was writing dispatches. I'm glad to see you 
Corporal. I've heard all about you, but they told me you 
were dead. " Then he said in an undertone as if thinking 
aloud: "Bj^ Jove! I'll scoop the boj^s on this. It'll make 
a splendid item ! " 

"Make a what, did ye say? " asked Si, wondering what 
it all meant. 

But he was gone. Si did not know that he was a news- 
paper man. 

The journey was tedious, like all southern railroading 
in wsiv times, but Si was happy in knowing that every 
revolution of the clattering wheels brought him nearer to 
"Injianny" which to him w^as but another name for 
Paradise. Everywhere he found kind and ready hands to 
bind up his wound and minister to his wants. 

Si was amazed to find that through the instrumentality 
of the telegraph and the newspapers his fame was already 
being spread abroad. He was wholly unconscious of having 
done anything that was especially meritorious, but his 
gallant conduct at the storming of the ridge, in bearing 
the colors of the 200th Indiana to the crest, had been 
highly commended by the officers, and had reached the 
ears of the reliable war correspondents of the excellent 
family journals. His deeds were described in the tele- 
graphic dispatches, so that at the very time he was tramp- 
ing along behind the ambulances, with his arm in a sling, 
thousands of people at the north were reading about what 
lie did, besides a good deal that he didn't do; for the 



AND si's fame is SPREAD ABROAD. 511 

average war correspondent was gifted with a fervid imag- 
ination that never failed to supply all the details when 
authentic information was meager. It was rumored that 
Corporal Klegghad been wounded, but in the chaos at the 
front no one could tell how severely, or whether he was 
even alive or not. So the newspaper men reported him in 
all the various stages of mutilation and dismemberment. 
Some of them added to the pathos of their narratives by 
setting forth that he was killed just after he had planted 
the flag on the summit. 

At the first city that was reached, after the all-night 
ride, the newsboys swarmed around the train crying : 

'"Ere's yer mornin' papers! Latest news from the big 
battle! All 'bout Corp'ral Si Klegg!" 

* ' Wha-a-a-t !" exclaimed Si, unconsciously, as he heard the 
clamor of the oft-repeated cry. He rubbed his eyes to be 
certain that he was awake, and pulled his ears to assure 
himself that they were still there and performing their 
legitimate functions. Then turning to one of his fellow- 
passengers he said : 

"Who d'yes'pose all this 'ere fuss 's 'bout ? I hain't never 
heerd o'no other Corporil Si Klegg'ceptin'me, but Ihain't 
done nothin' ter have the papers blowin' me up ! I reck'n 
it's some other feller, but I hope he hain't done nothin' ter 
make me 'shamed o' the name! I'm goin' ter find out. 
Here, you young rascal, gimme a paper!" and Si handed 
the boy a 10-cent scrip in payment. 

"I guess you'll find the\^'ve got you into the papers, sure 
enough!" said the comrade to whom Si had addressed his 
somewhat explosive remarks. 

All the chance occupants of the car were entire strangers 
to Si when he boarded the train the night before. No two 
of them belonged to the same regiment. But there w^as 
not one whose acquaintance he had not made before 
midnight. 

Si found in the paper a long account of the battle and a 



512 WORDS FAILED HIM. 

liberal paragraph devoted to "Corporal Si Klegg, of the 
200th Indiana." 

"Wall, I swow," he exclaimed, lookingtip from the paper, 
"'f that don't beat the Jews. I'll make an affidavy that 
ther' ain't no other Si Klegg in the 200th InjiannA'." And 
then he thought : "What 'd mother, 'n' sister Marier, 'n' 
Annabel sa}^ 'f they sh'd see that !" 

The closing lines of the paragraph were as follows : 

Our readers will be pleased to learn that the report that Corporal Josiah 
Kle^g of the 200th Indiana was killed, published inourissueof yesterda3% 
proves to have been a mistake. The gallant young soldier was severely 
wounded, but when seen last night b^' our able and discriminating corres- 
pondent he was as frisky as a spring lamb. Our special telegraphic dis- 
patches convey the gratifj'ing intelligence that Corporal Klegg was yester- 
day granted a furlough by the general commanding the army, and left last 
night by rail for his home in Indiana. He will arrive in our city this 
morning. All our readers will join us in the hope that he may "live long 
and prosper." 

It was not often that Si was unable to find some kind of 
language to express his feelings when unexpected things 
happened, but this was one of those exigencies when his 
usual volubility of tongue failed him. He stared blankly 
around, without uttering a w^ord, to the great enjoyment 
of his companions. He finally managed to say that he 
was completely "kerflummuxed." It is no doubt true that 
the dictionary, from A to Z, could not afford a word more 
suitable than this to express his mental condition at that 
moment. 

Then he gave a sudden start as athought flashed through 
his mind. What if the papers in the north should publish 
the report that he was killed, and they should see it ! 

As soon as it became known that a train with wounded 
had arrived from the front, there came a delegation of men 
and women from the Sanitary Commission, bringing gal- 
lons of hot coffee and baskets of sand wnches and boiled eggs 
and all manner of delicacies. Some of the ladies began at 
once to inquire for Corporal Klegg, whose name had ap- 



LET ME KISS HIM FOR HIS MOTHER! 



P' 



513 



peared so conspicuously in the head-lines of the morning 
papers. 

"Here he is," exclaimed Si's traveling companions. In 
vain he protested and shrank into a dark corner of the car 
as half a dozen ladies demanded that he come forth. His 
comrades at length surrounded him and forced him to the 
door, \Yhere he \vas greeted with boisterous enthusiasm. 

"Just look at him ; he's only a boy !" 

"I'd like to be his mother! Wouldn't I be proud of him?" 




SI FINDS HIMSELF FAMOUS. 

"I do hope his folks didn't hear that awful story that 
he was dead!'' 

Si thought it was about as bad as being under the fire 
of the rebels. He blushed to the roots of his hair when a 
matronly dame manifested a desire to "kiss him for his 
mother." It had been a long time since any female, old or 
young, had kissed him, either "for his mother" or on her 
own account. Pleasant as \vould be the touch of the soft 
lips of woman, he gently but firmly declined the vicarious 



Dl-i SI "interviewed" by a RfiPORTxiR. 

salute. He said he hoped to be at home in a day or two, 
and he had reason to believe his mother would be glad to 
do it for herself. 

It was indeed a feast that Si and his comrades enjoyed. 
The daintiest morsels were sj)read before them with a pro- 
fusion that was bewildering to soldiers who had been at 
the front for a year, living on army rations. Not less 
startling to the ladies must have been the almost unlimited 
stowage capacity which the men exhibited. 

The visitors brought with them various appliouces for 
the relief of injured limbs. There were crutches for the 
lame, and ingenious devices to support wounded arms. 
One of the latter was given to Si, and a most comfortable 
and convenient thing it was — a sort of trough in which to 
lay the arm, suspended by straps that went around the 
neck. These contrivances were freely bestowed upon all 
to the nature of whose wounds they were suited. 

The all-pervading newspaper reporter was there, armed 
with pencil and note-book, to "interview" Si and "write 
him up." Si was well-nigh dazed at finding himself the 
object of so much attention. He could not understand 
why so great a "fuss, ' as he called it, was made over him. 
At first he did not take kindly to the newspaper man. 
The latter, however, by that persistence so characteristic 
of the profession, at last succeeded in getting Si's tongue 
unloosed, and he rattled off, in his quaint, ingenuous way, 
the story of how the flag of the 200th Indiana came to be 
the first that floated amidst the flame and smoke on the 
crest of the ridge. He told it in simple words, ^vithout the 
least attempt at self-glorification. He was proud of his 
regiment and of himself, not as an individual, but as one 
of its members. So far as he w^as concerned he had done 
nothing more than what he enlisted to do, and what 
might be expected of him. He did not even ask the re 
porter to send him a marked cojDy of the paper. 



CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

Bad News Reaches the Klegg Family, but it Proves to be Untkdb. 

FARMER KLEGG was husking com when a neighbor, 
who also had a son in Company Q, came galloping 
down the road leading from the village. Tying his horse 
to the fence he climbed over, approached with rapid steps, 
and accosted him. The earnest tones with which he spoke 
betokened the gravity of the message he brought. 

" Neighbor Klegg, " he said, "I had to goto town this 
mornin' to git the old mare shod, an' I heerd they had 
another great battle yesterday. I tried to find out suthiu 
definite for I couldn't help feelin' anxious 'bout my Tom. 
All anybody' knew was that our men druv the rebils, 
capturin' a hull lot o' their cannons an' I don't know 
how many thousan' pris'ners. What consarns you an* 
me most is that the 200th Indiana was in the thickest on 
't and was cut up terrible. I couldn't git no names yet 
tellin' who 's killed an' who ain't, but I thought you an* 
some o' the rest o' the people hereabout would like to know 
there had been a fight that our boys was in, an' so I 
jumped on the hoss an' come on a dead run." 

The first glance into the face of his friend had told Farmer 
Klegg the serious character of the hasty visit. Dropping 
a half-husked ear he stood listening intently to the start- 
ling words. 

"I must go an' tell mother!" he said gently, and his lips 
quivered as he spoke. "Then I'll go to town an' see if I 

515 



516 



STARTLING NEWS. 



can hear any of the particklers. They said the 200th was 
badly cut up, did they?" he continued, as they walked 
toward the road. 

" That's what they told me,'' replied his companion. 

"If that's true a good many of Company must ha' 
got hurt, 'cause I don't believe any on 'em was furder in 
front than our boys. Ye know, neighbor, it's most 
always the brave ones that gets hit 'Tain't them as is 
skulkin' back in the 
rear. If a man is killed | 
or wounded, it stands ^ 
to reason that he was 
somewheres 'round 
where he ought to be. 
It 'd be purty hard to 
see my boy's name in 
one o' the long lists the 
newspapers print after 
every big battle, but 
even that wouldn't be ''^^ 
so hard as to have it |^ 
said that Si wa'n'tno '^^^k^^^ 
good. If I only know W-'i^^^i— ^^^^^ 
that he done his duty '^¥^S 
like a brave soldier I'll >'^ V^ 

try and-" %K^Si 

The patriotic old man 
left the sentence unfin- 
ished. Something came into his throat that choked his 
utterance. He drew his rough sleeve across his brown 
face. 

"I agree with ye, Mr. Klegg," said the other. "That's 
jest the way I feel about Tom. I'd rather know he was 
dead than to hear he'd showed the white feather. But 
from all accounts we've had I don't think either on 'em 
is a boy to be 'shamed of" 




NEWS FOR FARMER KLEGG. 



FATHER AND MOTHER. 517 

At the road thcv shook hands and parted, with dimmed 
eyes, and voices tremulous with anxiety and foreboding 
for the absent ones. One turned his steps toward the 
house and the other remounted his horse and rode away. 

Farmer Klegg's wife had seen the neighbor ride past at 
furious pace. She had watched him as he alighted from 
his horse and joined her husband in the field. She knew, 
with the keen instinct of a mother, that something unusual 
had transpired, and that it concerned her bo}'. She stood 
in the open door and did not take her eyes from them dur- 
ingthe brief interview. The instant the\' separated she drew 
her apron over her head and walked rapidly with beating 
heart to meet her husband. His head was bowed and he 
was not conscious of her approach until she was near 
him. 

"Father," she said — and words and tears came together 
— ' ' is it bad news ? Si is not — dead ? ' ' 

He opened his strong arms and clasped them about his 
wife as she fell, weeping, upon his breast. 

"There — there— mother ! Don't!" he said, with the 
utmost tenderness, and with a mighty effort to control 
his own emotions, as he laid his hand softly upon her fore- 
head and moistened cheek. "There's sad news for a good 
many people; I pray the good Father above that it may 
not prove so to us, dear. The army that our boy is in 
has had another battle and the report is that the 200th 
Indiana was in the thickest of it and was badly cut up." 

"And — tell me quick," she sobbed — and her breath came 
fast as she looked into his face with her tearful e^^es — 
"what did— he say — about our Si? " 

"Not a word, mother. I tell you trul^^" He cast upon 
her a look that is only born of the affection of half a life- 
time. "I have heard nothing be3^ond what I have told 
you. We may hope that all is well with him, and now we 
will be thankful for that privilege. Cheer up, wife; it'll all 
come out right." 



518 IN QUEST OF TIDINGS. 

The fact that nothing was known as to how Si had fared 
in the battle brought to the mother a sense of rehef 

"I will drive to town," said Mr. Klegg, "and see if I can 
hear anything more. Be brave and patient till I come 
back." 

"I wall go with you," she answ^ered, quietly, "I could 
not endure it to wait for you. And let us go at once." 

"Perhaps it may not turn out to be so bad," he said, as 
they walked to the house. "The first reports are alw^ays 
the worst." 

"You know, "said his wife, "there isn't hardly a minute, 
day nor night, w^hen I ain't thinkin' or dreamin' of Si. 
I've never thought it possible that anything could happen 
to him. These are times when people have to make sacri- 
fices, but it seems as if for us to give up our only son, and 
he so good a boy as Si, is too much for the country to 
ask of us." 

"Now, mother, get your things on," he said, as they 
reached the house. "I'll have the buggy ready in a few 
minutes." 

Little was said during the drive to the village. The 
hearts of both were throbbing with anxiety for tidings 
from the absent one. 

The village was thronged with people on like errands. 
The news of the battle had spread, as if borne upon the 
wings of the morning, through the region round about, and 
the friends of Company Q gathered from all directions. 
The men at the front knew^ little of the unutterable long- 
ings, the prayers, the fears, the yearning hopes of those at 
home who loved them. 

Farmer Klegg thought it best to leave his wife at the 
house of a friend, while he hastened to the postoffice and 
railway station in quest of news. 

"Hurry," she said, "and come back to me as soon as 
you can,fov you knowhow much I want to hear from Si." 

"You had no need to tell me that," he replied, with an 



THE GREED FOR NEWSPAPERS. 519 

affectionate look into her face. "As soon as 1 can learn 
anything I will come to a'Ou." 

A short time before he arrived the morning papers from 
a neighboring city had reached the village. They were 
seized with the utmost avidity, and the long columns that 
told of the great victory were read with an intensity of 
interest that no language can portray. It was too soon 
for the heart-breaking lists of the dead and the mangled. 
For these the agon^^ of suspense — scarceh- less hard to 
bear than the pang of finding the name of a loved one 
among those of the heroic slain — must continue another 
da,}^ perhaps many daj-s. Now the moans of the wounded 
and the sound of pick and shovel in the burial trenches are 
drowned in the shouts of triumph. When the echoes of 
the wild huzzas have died away, then will come to aching 
hearts that cannot be comforted, a realization of how 
great a price w^as paid for the victory. 

Though the first hastily prepared report of the battle is 
barren of the details so eagerly sought, there is yet enough 
to absorb the thoughts and stir to their profoundest 
depths the hearts of these people. Such gallantry as that 
displaj'cd by the 200th Indiana could not pass unno- 
ticed, even in the furious hurly-burly of the fight. As 
they read how it led the charge up to the very mouths of 
the belching guns, and how its ranks were thinned as it 
grandly breasted the fierce and deadh^ blast from musket 
and cannon, they know that Company Q was there and 
many of its brave men must have fallen. Instinctively 
they look into one another's faces as if to ask. Is it my 
son? /?2j father? i22j' brother ? /nj^husband? Oh that one 
might be found who can answer, and put an end to these 
awful forebodings ! It were better to know the worst. 

Then a wave of patriotic rejoicing sweeps over that 
gathering, and before it even the fear and dread and love 
give way for the moment. Men and women, old and 
young, with tearful eyes, swing their hats, w^ave their 



520 SAD NEWS FOR FARMER KLEGG. 

kerchiefs, and unite their tremulous voices in a shout for 
those who so nobly obeyed the call of duty. They are 
proud of their sons and brothers, even though their man- 
gled bodies lie stark and stiffened on the field their valor 
helped to win. 

But there was one thing in the newspaper report that 
pierced like an arrow the hearts of that compan3^ Their 
pulses quickened as they read how Corporal Klegg of 
Company had borne the flag of the 200th Indiana up 
the rugged hill and planted it upon the flaming crest, and 
then — that he was killed. For more than two years they 
had been reading of battles with their awful scenes of 
slaughter. They were becoming familiar with death, but 
this brought it near to them. Strong men shuddered and 
women wept as they heard the sorrowful tidings. On 
every hand were heard the most sincere expressions of 
grief for "Poor Si."' 

Farmer Klegg, inhis eager quest for news, \valked rapidly 
toward the railway station. 

"There comes Si's father!" said one. "Poor man, what 
a blow it will be to him !" 

"True enough," said another, "and tomorrovsr the blow 
may fall on you and me." 

A moment later Mr. Klegg, flushed with anxiety, joined 
the throng. He saw at a glance the unwonted excitement, 
the sad, earnest faces, the crumpled newspapers ; he heard 
the hum of many voices, talking in hushed tones. He 
kne^v that information of some kind had been received. 
He needed not to ask what it was about. There was but 
one subject, and that filled all minds and hearts. As he 
glanced quickly into the faces of his friends and neighbors 
he saw looks of pity, and seemed as if by intuition to 
divine their meaning. 

"What news from — the battle?" he asked, hesitatingly, 
and yet with breathless longing. 



A BLOW THAT FELL HEAVILY. 521 

"It was a splendid victory. The 200th Indiana covered 
itself with glor}-. We can all be proud of Companv 0." 

"Yes," he answered, nervously, "I wasn't afraid of their 
flinchin', but did you hear anything about my — about any 
of the boys ?" 

A sad silence fell like a pall over the crowd. Hearts that 
were racked with alternate hopes and fears for their own 
dear ones, ached for him, yet none could break to him the 
tidings. 

"The paper saysSi was — badly hurt !" said one, timidly. 

"Let me see it! Give me the paper!" he exclaimed, as 
with trembling hands he drew his glasses from his pocket 
and put them on. 

A paper was handed him. He looked for an instant at 
the startling head lines, and then his e3^e wandered up 
and down the long columns. Tears stole down the cheeks 
of those around as they watched him. 

"Will some one show me where it tells about my boy?" 
he asked, struggling to suppress his emotions. 

A finger was laid upon the paragraph. With what pas- 
sionate eagerness he scanned it. When he reached the 
fateful words that told him his brave boy was among the 
slain the paper dropped from his tremulous grasp, the 
color left his face, and with his hand pressed to his fore- 
head and his eyes closed, he stood for a moment like a 
statue, the embodiment of paternal grief In such a 
presence the people stood in silent compassion. 

"Dead ? Si dead?" he said at length, in a choking voice, 
as if thinking aloud, and unconscious of his surroundings. 
"God help 3^our poor mother! How can I tell her! And 
yet I must go to her at once !" 

Then there came to him thoughts of the heroic manliness 
of his son, and in the noble spirit of patriotic sacrifice he 
said in tender tones : 

"But Si did his duty bravely and died like a true soldier! 
Better dead — a hero, than living— a coward ! Si was a 



522 HEROISM AT HOME. 

good and dutiful boj. It is very hard to think of him — 
so ! Oh, if I could only believe it is not true ! I would 
gladly give my own life if it could bring Si back to his 
mother.'" Then he added, as if ashamed of his weakness, 
even under such a crushing burden of sorrow : " May God 
give me strength to show^ myself worthy of such a son. 
Ten thousand fathers, whose sons were as dear to them as 
was mine to me, have been called to lay them upon the 
altar; why should not I? " 

An involuntary cheer went up in honor of the old farmer's 
brave spirit. The people crow^ded around, him with 
streaming eyes and in turn grasped his hand and spoke 
words of sympath3^ He heard them, but the kindly utter- 
ances seemed almost meaningless. 

"Neighbors and friends," he said, "I thank you all. This 
nation is going to be saved, and if it's necessary I'm ready 
to shoulder a gun and take Si's place. I haven't felt the 
war before. My share of the burden has been laid on me 
at last, and I'm willing to bear it. The war is going to 
end right as sure as there's a God in heaven, and when it's 
over the country will be all the dearer to us for the sacri- 
fices we have made to save it." 

The first great shock was over. It was well for Farmer 
Klegg that he had recovered himself before facing the or- 
deal of communicating the intelligence to his wnfe. 

"Si's mother is waiting for me, "he said. " May the good 
Lord give her the same strength that he has given me." 

His steps were unconsciously slow as he w^alked back to 
the house where he had left her half an hour before, and 
where he knew she w^as awaiting his coming with all the 
yearning solicitude that a mother's heart can know. He 
prayed for help, feeling his need of every assistance, human 
and divine, to meet the sorest trial of his life. 

Every moment since he left her she had been sitting with 
her face at the window-pane, gazing wistfully down the 
street whence he had gone. Minutes seemed hours as she 



THE STRICKEN MOTHER. 523 

watched for his return. When he came in sight her heart 
gave a great bound. Springing to her feet she flew to meet 
him at the gate. 

As he approached, with his eyes fixed upon the ground, 
a subtle instinct told him she was there. He felt her pres- 
ence ; and her appealing look, though he saw it not, 
thrilled his inmost soul, but he could not lift his eyes to 
hers. 

"Husband?" 

He looked up. She read it in his face as plainh' as if the 
printed words had been stamped upon his moist cheek and 
quivering lip. With a quick gasp and a convulsive cry she 
flung herself upon his breast. She would have fallen but 
for his enfolding embrace. 

"I will help you to bear it, mother," he said tenderly. 
"'Let us go into the house." 

Lifting the fainting woman in his strong arms he bore 
her across the threshold. Laying her upon a sofa he 
kissed her white lips and took her hand between his ov.-n. 
Large hands were his, browned and calloused bv two 
score years of toil, but to her there was no touch on earth 
so soft as their tender, loving pressure. Kind-hearted 
friends gathered around and proffered their services, but 
he waved them aside. 

"Leave her to me — and God," he said. 

He softly smoothed her hair w4th his hand, and spoke to 
her in endearing words. A flood of tears came, and 
brought relief to the overburdened heart. 

"Mother," he said, when calmness came, after the par- 
ox3\sm had subsided, "Si carried the flag of the regiment 
up the ridge ahead of all the others, right into the blaze 
of the rebel guns. I read it in the paper. It was just after 
he got to the top and victory was close by that he was — 
that he fell. There never was a braver, nobler boy, nor 
one who did his dut\Mjetter. It will be a great comfort lo 
US- mother, to think of this, and to remember what a good 



524 TWO MORE BLEEDING HEARTS. 

son he has always been to us. It isn't ever^^body that has 
such boys to give when the country needs them." 

Strength of body and mind came slowly but surely back 
to the stricken mother, and with it came that matchless 
spirit of devotion that nerved the women of the whole 
country, north and south, during those four years of fire 
and blood. 

"My dear husband," she said quietl}^, "it is God's will, 
and I submit. But I cannot talk of it now. We will go 
home if 3^ou are ready." 

Almost in silence, with brave though bursting hearts, 
they rode to the home that would be so desolate now. 
The light of his presence would never dispel the darkness. 

During the few hours of their absence the daughter had 
done little but strain her eyes along the road by which 
they would return. Nor was she alone. Is it any wonder 
that Annabel, learning that the farmer and his wife had 
gone to the village, should put on her bonnet and go over 
to see if Maria had any news from him ; and then to wait 
and watch with her ? 

There were two more bleeding hearts when Farmer 
Klegg and his wife came. There were bitter tears and 
convulsive sobs as the dreadful words, like keenh^-barbed 
shafts, did their cruel work. 

The next morning Mr. Klegg drove again to the village. 
All his farm work was forgotten except such periodical 
duties as necessity required. He was waiting at the rail- 
way station long before the train was due that Avould 
bring the daily papers with later accounts of the battle. 
Others, too, were there, by scores, anxious for tidings from 
"the front." On all sides were heard words of s^^mpathy 
for Farmer Klegg, in the great sorrow that had befallen 
him. 

When the train dashed up a hundred eager hands were 
outstretched for the newspapers. In a moment Mr. Klegg 
had secured one, and withdrawing a little \\ ay from the 



"ALIVE AGAIN. 



525 



crush he opened it. Instantly his eye caught, among the 
flaming head-lines : 

"brave corporal klegg not killed." 

Si's preeminent gallantry, coupled with the fact that 
the 200th Indiana was from that part of the state, had 
made him a conspicuous object of interest. 

Farmer Kleggf's heart seemed almost to burst from 
his body as he read it again, to assure himself that he was 
not mistaken 
The sudden re- 
vulsion of feel- 
ing, the over- 
whelming jO}", 
sw^ept entirely 
away for the 
moment the 
staid dignity of 
his usual mien. 
Swinging his 
hat in one hand 
and his news- 
paper in the 
other he leaped 
into the air with 
a great shout. 
Then he looked 
again at the 
blessed words, 
and as the happy tears trickled dowm his cheeks he rever- 
ently turned his eyes upward and, with an intensity of 
pathos, breathed the words : 

"Father in Heaven, I thank Thee!" 

'Jnder other circumstances those who stood by would 
he ve thought him bereft of reason; but other quick eyes 
iiad read the tidings, and none wondered at the overflow 
nf his feelings. 




"my boy is not dead!" 



{526 THE FURIOUS HOMEWARD RIDE. 

He gave no heed to those who gathered about him. He 
waited not to read the dispatches. His only thought was 
of mother and sister, who were sitting in the shadow of 
death, while grief was gnawing at their heart-strings. 
Dashing through the crowd he went upon a run, nor 
stopped until he reached his buggy. 

"What is it. Neighbor Klegg?" asked a friend whom he 
passed in the street. 

''AIv boy is not dead I''^ he answered without pausing in 
his flight. 

The strap by which the horse was tied had perversely 
drawn itself into a hard knot. Without waiting to untie 
it he quickly drew out his knife, cut the strap, leaped into 
the seat, seized the reins, and began to apply the whip to 
the horse's back and sides. 

"Now, git up, Doll!" he shouted. "Travel for your 
life! Ye never carried such news before. G'lang, there, 
why don't ye!" 

The mare was at a gallop, but it seemed to him a snail's 
pace, in his impetuous haste. Again and again the lash 
descended upon the astonished beast. Goaded to despera- 
tion, the faithful animal seemed at length to realize that it 
was an extraordinary emergency and fairly flew along the 
road. The fast-clattering hoofs startled the people in their 
houses, and they looked with wondering eyes uponathing 
so strange for Farmer Klegg. Other vehicles, as he ap- 
proached at furious pace, drew off the road as if to escape 
from a runaway. But he leaned forward and unconsciously 
plied his whip, urging his steed to still greater efforts. 
Men who recognized him tried to speak to him as he went 
whirling by. 

"Don't stop me !" he exclaimed. " My boy is alive !" 
The farmer's wife and daughter had mechanicalh^ per- 
formed such simple household duties as could not be left 
undone. Then, with pale faces and tearful eyes, they 
watched for his return. 



THREE HAPPY HEARTS. 



527 



•'There he comes, mother; and see how he drives! Oh, 
can It be possible that — " 

Both run out to the gate. Maria does not finish the 
sentence she began ; she dares not suggest a hope only to 
see it dashed to pieces, and themselves plunged into even 
a lower depth of grief. 

Rapidly he draws near. His hat has fallen off and his 
thin, gray hair is streaming in disorder about his head. 

"Mother!" he shouts, as he draws rein upon the pant- 
ing horse, "our boy - ri/"-\^ ./ni^./V'^:!/* 
is not dead ! He " -^.;- «tilMfe^,rr^i...^.^„„ ^1 
■ — is — not — dead ! ' ' 
And the tears start 
afresh as he ex- 
claims, " Praise 
God from w^hom all 
blessings flow!" 

He springs from 
the buggy and in 
an instant father, 
mother, daughter, 
are clasped in one 
another's arms, 
mingling their glad 
tears for him that 



"was dead and is 
alive again." 

"Come into the house, dears, "said Farmer Klegg. "I've 
got a newspaper that tells about it. I didn't stop to read 
it. I saw it in big letters that Si wasn't killed and that 
was enough for me to know till I could come home and 
tell you. If I've killed old Doll, she couldn't die in a better 
cause." 

He tried to read, but his misty eyes refused to perform 
their office. 

"Read it, daughter!" he said, handing her the paper, 




FARMER KLEGG'S DRIVE. 



o28 SI SURPRISES TH£ VILLAGERS, 

"there's something wrong with my specs, and I can't see 
through 'em I' 

And while their hearts throbbed, and the light of their 
smiles seemed to make rainbows in their tears, Maria read 
how Si had been wounded as he bore the flag into the 
flame and smoke of the enemy's guns. How badly he was 
hurt the rejDort did not sa}'-, and there were tender long- 
ings to know all; but their son and brother was not dead, 
and this knowledge came to them like a sweet benediction 
from heaven. 

" God will not let him die !" said the farmer's wife. 

"Amen!" exclaimed Farmer Klegg. 

A few minutes later Maria put on her bonnet, slipped 
noiselessly out of the house and went with hurrying feet 
to tell Annabel the glad news. They wept together in the 
fullness of their joy. 



CHAPTER XXXIX. 

Corporal Klegg Reaches Home and there is Happiness all 

Around. 

liTTELLO, Si!" 

X X This cordial and hearty greeting fell upon Cor- 
poral Klegg's ears as he alighted from the train two days 
later. His face was recognized by a dozen in the crowd, 
the instant it emerged from the door of the car, and a 
chorus of voices uttering these words of welcome ^vas the 
introductory overture to the tumultuous reception that 
awaited him. It was purely spontaneous, for not even 
Farmer Klegg had any intimation of his coming. 

The daily throng of people in quest of news from the 
battle was unabated. Many of them were the same per- 



AND IS WARMLY WELCOMED. 



529 



sons, who had come day after day in the hoj^e of hearing 
from those who were near and dear. Business and all the 
ordinary concerns of life \vere almost forgotten in the one 
engrossing theme of thought and conversation. 

As Si descended the steps of the car, with one arm in a 
sling, he glanced hastily around ujion the eager faces, with 
a glad smile and a cheery ' ' Hello ! " 

"Three cheers for Si Klegg!" shouted an enthusiastic 
admirer of the gallant 
young soldier, and they 
were given with royal 
good will. 

He w^as instantly sur- 
rounded by scores of 
people, jostling and 
crowding one another 
in their desire to take 
him by the hand and 
ply him v^ath questions 

'TU have ter ax jc^ 
ter be a leetle keerful," 
he said, as they throng 
ed about him, "fer that 
arm 's consid'ably dam- 
idged 'n' it's sorer 'n' 
any bile ye ever seed." 

This word of caution 
had the desired effect, "hello, si; 

and care was taken that he should have plent}^ of "sea 
room " on that side. 

Si was furiously bombarded with words of commenda- 
tion and inquiries from ever^^one. The whole community 
was proud of him. The people said that if they had known 
he was coming they would have turned out the brass 
band that he might be received in a fitting manner. A 
dozen at the same time were asking eager questions con- 




53J FARMER KLEGG'S HAPPINESS. 

cerning other members of Company Q, for as yet but few 
details of the casualties had reached the village. It would 
have kept his tongue busy for hours to answer all the 
questions that were put to him in five minutes. 

For a time it was impossible for Si to make his way 
through the crowd ; but he looked wistfully about, if per- 
chance he might see the face of his father or mother or 
sister Maria. He even thought it barely possible that 
Annabel might happen to be there. One of his arms was 
still in serviceable condition, and he was sure it would be 
able to do extra duty, to make u]i for the other, that must 
be but an idle witness of the proceedings. His heart and 
head were so full of these things, and of home and the dear 
ones there, that he heard little of the confused babble of 
the crowd around him. 

An old man came up in breathless haste and began to 
push his way through the throng. 

" Let me see Si !" he exclaimed, while tears of joy trickled 
down his cheeks. All recognized his right, and the crowd 
gave way on either side that he might pass. 
''Oh, my boy!" 
"Father!" 

Farmer Klegg clasped his arms about the neck of his son 
and long held him in a joyful embrace. The eyes of the 
bystanders moistened- in glad s^^mpathy. Many who 
looked upon the happy meeting longed, \vith an unspeak- 
able yearning, to fold their sons and brothers to their 
hearts. 

"Let us go home," said Mr. Klegg, leading the way. 
" There's a couple o'w^omen there as 'd e'ena'most go crazy 
'f they knowed ye'd come. I've got the old mar' here an' 
it won't take long to drive out. She's got used to goin' 
back and forrard 'tween here an' the farm, these last few 
days. I reck'n I don't need to tell ye why I've been comin' 
to town every mornin', as fast as Doll's feet could fly !" 
"I don't know, 'nless ye was bringin' yer farm truck to 



FATHER AND SON. 531 

market," replied Si, as they walked rapidly away, "but I 
can't see what ye druv so fast fer ; ye alius told me to be 
easy with the bosses. Was ye hurryin' 'cause ye was 
afeared prices 'd drap?" 

"My dear boy, can't you think how we felt when we. 
got news of the battle, and .knew Company Q was in it. 
An' it was a good deal worse 'n that. Si, for we heard you 
was killed. I read it myself in the newspaper. I ain't 
goin' to tell ye what a cruel blow it was to j^er mother 
an' sister. Ye can git some kind of an idee if yell obsarve 
how glad they are to see ye. It was like a camp-meetin' 
at our ho'use the next day when I got back from town 
with the news that ye wasn't dead. An' every day since 
I hain't done much else besides tryin' to find out how bad 
ye w^as hurt an' where ye was. I told mother this mornin' 
that I'd 'bout made up my mind to take the keers an' go 
down there an' see 'f I couldn't hunt ye up an' bring ye 
home. An' here ye are, bless yer heart, lookin' jest like ye 
always did, 'cept that ye're a little tanned an' weather- 
beaten, which ain't noways strange considerin' the way 
ye've been livin'. An' how's yer poor arm? an' won't ye 
be glad to have mother dress it for ye? I read in the 
paper how ye behaved yerself in the fight ; an' mother an' 
me was proud that you was our boy, even when we 
thought ye was dead." 

From the overflowing heart of the farmer came a rush 
of happy thoughts, which almost insensibh^ bubbled forth 
in words. He talked, scarcely conscious of what he was 
saying, only knowing that he was once more speaking, 
face to face, with his boy. 

"I didn't think ye was worryin' so 'bout me,'' said Si. 
""I might ha' telegrafted ye a couple o' days ago 't I was 
all right 'n' was comin' home, but I thought it'd be kind 
o' nice to s'prise ye like. The fust noosepaper I seen arter 
I started, had a long lingo 'bout Si Klegg, 'n' I thought 
it must be there was some other feller 'd got mj name, 



632 "oh, mother, it's si!" 

but everj^bod}' said it was me. I couldn't see what chey 
wanted to put sich a piece in the paper fer. Ef I'd had 
my way I wouldn't ha' come home fer this, but the doctor 
told me I had ter. Ye mus'n't think 'twas cause I didn't 
•keer ter see ye, but I didn't want ter go back on the old 
rijiment. I didn't know 'twould feel so good ter git hum. 
Cant we git over the ground a leetle faster?" 

They were now well on their way. Si looked at once 
familiar objects with as much interest as if his absence 
had been ten times as long. Indeed, he had lived so much 
since he went to the war, that it seemed like half a score 
of years instead of one. So completely had the new life 
absorbed his verj- being that memory gave him only faint 
glimpses of his boyhood days, though they were but such a 
little while ago. Now the old scenes were before him, and 
for the time he was not a soldier, but again the simple- 
hearted farmer's boy. 

At home wife and daughter were watching for Farmer 
Klegg's return, as thej' had done every day since the news 
of the battle. 

"Father is coming!" said Maria, whose keen eye recog- 
nized him while he was yet a great way off. "There's 
somebody riding with him, dressed in soldier clothes. Ob, 
mother, Ws Si!" 

With beating hearts and quickening pulses they flew to 
the door and out through the gate. With rapid steps 
they hurried down the road to meet them. They clapped 
their hands and waved they kerchiefs, while Si swung his 
hat and shouted, and Farmer Klegg stung the mare's 
foaming flanks with his whip. 

A moment later Si clambered out of the buggy, as fast 
as his wounded arm would permit, and was received into 
the welcoming embrace of mother and sister. 

"My dear, brave boy!" said his mother, folding him to 
her bosom, and smiling through her tears. "My life has 
never known a greater happiness than this. I believe I 



IX LOVING EMBRACE. 



roo 

)v>0 



kno r something of how that poor widow felt when Christ 
raised her son from the dead. Did you know he was com- 
ing, father? Wh}- didn't you tell me?" 

"Mother," replied Air. Klegg, "do you suppose I would 
have kept back such a joy from you if I had known it? I 
was just as much surprised as ^-ou was. I hadn't the 
faintest idee he was comin' till they told me in town, as 1 
was hurryin' to the depot, that Si had jest got off the 
train. An' didn't I make the crowd get out of the way 
an' let me through till 
I had him in these 
arms?" 

" It was this way, 
mother," said Si, "I 
didn't know" myself 't 
I was comin' t'll jest 
'fore I started. While 
the doctor was tyin' 
my arm up in a rag he 
told me he'd get a fur- 
lough fer me, 'n' I'd got 
ter come home 'n' re- 
pair damidges. If I'd 
thought 3-e was all 
a-frettin' "bout me I 
mout ha' sent 3'e a 
what -d'ye -call -it — I 
mean a tellygram, but 
I was stupid 'nuff not to think on it. I 'lowed mebbe ye'd 
be gladder ter see me 'f I sort o bounced in on ye 'thout 
lettin' ye know nothin' 'bout it. I don't wonder at yet 
worr3'iti' since father told me ye heerd I was killed. I seen 
suthin "bout it in the paper, myself, but I didn't think it 
had ter be true jest 'cause the noosepaper said so. I 
didn't b'lieve it, 'n' I didn't s'pose you would ef ye sh'd 
happen ter see it. But it's all right anyway, mother. I'^a 




HOME ! 



5 Si " MORE SINCERE GREETINGS. 

here, 's sound 's a hardtack, 'ceptin' where the Johnny rebs 
chipped off a piece, 'n' that won't be long gittin' well now 
*t I've got you 'n' Marier to do the nussin'. But say, 
mother, have ye got any pie?" 

"Why, bless ye. Si, of course I have, an' if I'd known you 
was comin' I'd 'a' had a dozen ready baked for ye. I'd 
ought to thought o' yer bein' hungry, but I couldn't think 
o' nothin' only that you was here." 

They had already reached the house and there were not 
four happier hearts in the world than theirs, as they 
crossed the threshold. Si's mother inquired with tender 
solicitude if his arm did not need attention. 

"We've been makin' bandages and scrapin' lint to send 
down to the hospitals," she said, "and I've got plenty of 
'em. Who'd ha' thought I was gettin' 'em ready to use on 
my own boy!" 

Si thanked his mother, but assured her that his stom- 
ach was just then in much greater need of her kindly min- 
istrations than was his arm. Remembering the perennial 
vigor of his appetite, she bestirred herself with a zeal be- 
fitting the occasion. 

"Look around a bit. Si," she said, "an' see if things is 
nat'ral. I'll have a good snack ready for ye right quick." 

Si wandered about the house and farmyard in a trans- 
port of delight, as everywhere his eye met objects that had 
been familiar to him from his earliest remembrance. Every 
article in the house looked just as it used to, only tenfold 
more charming, and the well polished furniture seemed to 
shine with a smile of welcome. Out by the barn Old Spot 
and Muley .rolled their big eyes and lowed as if in recogni- 
tion ; the speckled hen and the lordly rooster cocked their 
heads and winked as much as to say "How are ye, Si;" 
the sheep came gallopingup at hiscall; and even the swine 
lifted their snouts and grunted a greeting that was cti- 
dently sincere, whatever it may have lacked in melody. 

Si was half inclined to draw the line at the pigs. After 



CORNER IN PIE. 



135 



his diet of the past year he felt that he never wanted to see 
another pig as long as he lived. 

•'Great Ccesar!" he exclaimed, as he peered over into the 
sty, "I wonder how many more bar'ls o' pork 'n' flitches 
o' bacon I've got ter swaller 'fore this 'ere rebellion 's 
squelched !' But it does taste good 'long 'th the hardtack 
wh.en a feller's reel hungry. I don't see how they c'd run a 
war 'thout hogs any more 'n 'thout soljers." 

"Come, Si!" 



His soliloqu}^ v^as 
abruptly ended by 
his mother calling 
him to the meal 
that had been pre- d 
pared. How sweet- 
ly her voice sounded 
in his ears ; and 
with what alacrity 
did he obc}^ the 
welcome summons. 
The combined ef- 
forts of mother and 
sister had produced 
a royal feast. Ex- 
haustive drafts had 
been made upon 
the family larder, 
and the table was si's barnyard welcome. 

spread with everything that appetite could wish. 

' ' I'm sorry I hain't got nothin' better for ye, Si, " remarked 
his mother, in an apologetic way— as the skillful housewife 
always doesw^hen she is conscious that her culinary efforts 
have been more than usually successful. 

^''Tis too bad, mother, I feel sorry 'bout it, mj'self," said 
Si, as he began the attack upon a quarter section of pie, 
"But reely," he continued, "ye don't mean it, fer this is 




536 "wish shorty was here!" 

jest boss. Ye'd think same 's I do 'f ye'd been tryin' 
ter live on the kind o' grub we have down in Comp'ny Q. 
Ye wouldn't have a tooth left in yer jaws. I tell ye what 
'tis, mother, that feller's head was level 't writ that song 
'bout 'Ther' ain't no place like home.' The boys sings it a 
good deal down in Dixie, 'n' 'tain't no nonsense, nuther.'' 

Si's talk was not continuous. It was as natural for his 
tongue to go rattling on as it was for him to eat when- 
ever he had a good chance. At this time both impulses 
were strong and he gratified them by turns. The happy 
combination was not more satisfactory to himself than to 
his mother and Maria, w^ho sat upon either side listening to 
his chatter and enjoying almost as much as he did the 
keen relish and the rapidity v^ith which he disposed of 
the edibles. His ability to wait upon himself was sadly 
crippled, but this lack was fully supplied b}^ his faithful 
attendants, who anticipated his every want, and pre- 
pared his food in convenient shape for conveyance to his 
mouth. 

"Wish Shorty was here so he c'd have a squar' meal fer 
once," he continued, as he poured a liberal "ration" of 
rich cream into his third cup of coffee. "I'd like ter send 
a gallon er two o' this stuff down to the boys o' Comp'ny 
Q — what there is left of 'em, fer they got cut up awful wher; 
we went up the ridge. But I ain't goin' ter talk 'bout 
that now, fer it makes me feel bad jest ter think on it. Ye 
don't know Shorty, do 3'e? P'r'aps ye don't understand 
how every soljer 's got a pard. Shorty 's mine, and ther' 
ain't a man 'n the rijiment that's got 's good a pard 's I 
have. He ain't so mighty scrumptious lookin', but he's 
what some folks calls a ' singed cat' — he's a heap better 'n 
e looks. I couldn't git 'long 'thout Shorty, nohow. An' 
tne best thing 'bout him is he's got sand 'nuff fer him and 
me both." 

"What in the world do soldiers want to carry sand 
for?" asked Maria. "I should think they'd have load 



CONCERNING '"SANU." 537 

enough without that, an' I can't see what good it can do 
'em." 

"Oh, I don't mean 't Shorty er any o' the boys lugs 
gravel 'round with 'em all the time," said Si, amused at 
his sister's literal interpretation. "It's jest a way we 
has o' talkin' in the army. P'r'aps youd call it 'nerve' er 
'spunk' er 'grit,' but we calls it 'sand,' 'n' I don't b'lieve 
there's any place in the wide world where a feller needs so 
much on it, 'n' fust qualit}'-, too, 's in the army. When the 
boys says a feller hain't got no sand, that means he's no 
'count. Now I guess ye understand what 'sand ' is, don't 
ye?" 

Maria readily admitted that his explanation was clear 
and ample. 

"Si," said his mother — and a tear glistened in her eye as 
she looked into his face, with maternal love and pride — 
"I'm glad jou've got what you call 'sand.' I shouldn't 
like to have ye one of the other kind ye was tellin' 'bout." 

"Well, mother, I jest had to have it, 'cause I wasn't 
goin' ter do nothin' 't 'd make ye 'shamed o' me. I've had 
'nuff ter last me this fur, but I tell ye it purty nigh gi'n 
out sometimes. 'Tain't safe ter brag any, fer I've seen fel- 
lers 't you'd think to hear 'em talk they had sand 'nufF 
ter stock up a hull rijiment ; 'n' when it come ter the pinch 
they didn't have no more 'n ther' is in the gizzard of a 
chicken what's jest hatched. Ye can't most always tell 
t'll ye see a man in a tight place. Mebbe my sand '11 run 
out some day, but I don't b'lieve 'twill. If it does it'll 
be time fer Si Klegg ter turn up his toes." 

When Si had eaten all he could hold, his mother and sister 
gave their attention to his arm. As they unwound the 
bandages with gentle fingers and disclosed the ugly gap 
that had been torn in the flesh by the cruel missile, the 
tenderest and most emphatic expressions of sympathy 
and commiseration escaped from their lips. They were 
unanimous in the opinion that it was "awful." 



538 CARRYING THE NEWS TO ANNIE. 

"Fiddlesticks I" said Si, "that ain't notliin' 't all— jest a 
mere scratch — compared ter what hunderds o' the bo^^s 
got. If you'd been where I was the night arter the fight 
you'd ha' thought I was mightylucky ter git off with that, 
sayin' nothin' 'bout all them that was killed." 

While they washed and dressed his wound, Si drew a 
graphic picture of the scenes he had witnessed at the field 
hospital. They had read of such things in the newspapers, 
but they had never seemed real to them before. There 
were many involuntary shudderings and exclamations of 
horror during the recital. 

Si's wound was already beginning to heal, and his 
healthy condition v\ras favorable to speedy recovery. 

"That's fust rate!" he said, after his arm was nicely 
wrapped in clean, white bandages. "I wish the poor boys 
a-sufferin' down there had 's good nusses as you be. I 
want ye ter do yer level best on me 'n' git me cured up so 
I kin go back. My musket 's waitin' fer me." 

His mother and sister looked sadly at each other, but 
made no reply. 

"Si," said Maria, after she had assisted her mother to 
clear away the "things," "I'm goin' to run over and tell 
Annie that you've come, and that I guess you'll call 
'round this evening. She'll be most as glad to see ye: as / 
was." 

"D'ye reely mean that, Marier?" and the rich color 
mantled Si's brown cheek as he spoke. 

"Of course I do," replied Maria. "I thought her poor 
little heart v^as clean broke wdien the awful news came 
that you was killed. You jest wait and see. Si — if you 
can muster up courage enough to go over there." 

"I was thinkin' — that is — I mean — I was goin' ter ax ye 
'bout her, soon 's I got a chance," and Si's face kept grow- 
ing redder. 

"What a goosey you are, to be sure," said his sister, 
roguishly. ^^ Ain't you a brave soldier, talkin' so much 



COMFORTING ASSURANCES. 539 

about *sand' an' chargin' batteries an' capturin' flags, 
an' ye dassent go to see a pretty little girl like Annabel !" 

Si did not reply to this sally, for he Was painfully con- 
scious that what she said was true. He felt that it would 
take more "sand " to go and see Annie than it did to carry 
the colors of the 200th Indiana up the blazing ridge. 

"You may tell — Annie — that I'll be 'round this evenin'!" 
he said at length. 

Then he put on his hat and went out back of the house 
to think. He wanted, more than anything else in the 
world, to go right along with Maria. If the house of An- 
nabeFs father had been full of armed rebels, he would not 
have hesitated a moment ; as it was, he concluded to wait 
till the friendly darkness would cover his movements. If 
he should go now the eyes of the whole world w^ould be 
upon him. 

Si watched eagerly for his sister's return, though it was, 
of course, wholly accidental that he happened to be stand- 
ing at the front gate when she came. 

"What did — she say ?" he asked. 

"I ain't goin' to tell you nothin' 'bout it," she replied. 
"It spiles such things to have 'em go drizzlin' at second- 
hand from somebody else's tongue. She ain't half as 'fraid 
of you. Si, as you be of her. She tried to hide from me 
the tears that come into her eyes when I told her you was 
here. Now don't keep askin' questions, for I shan't tell ye 
no more, only jest that ye needn't be noways afeard that 
yell find yerself locked out when ye go there." 

During the remainder of the day Si strolled over the farm 
and talked with his father, who was busy in bringing up 
the arrears of his work. 

"It's preciouslittlei've done fer nigh a week, "said Farmer 
Klegg, "'cept drivin' to town arter news, an' things is 
badly behind. I reck'n it's purty much the same with 
a good many o' the neighbors that has boys in Com- 
pany Q." 



540 A HAPPY MEETING. 

"Wish 't I c'd help 3^e. father." said Si, "but 1 can't arn 
my board jest now." 

"Si," replied his father, "all I want o' you is jest to stan' 
'round where 1 can look at ye. It's a powerful blessin' to 
these old eyes o' mine!" 

In the few hours since his return, Si had come to realize, 
more than during all the long months of his absence, how 
tender the affection and solicitude, how grievous the cor- 
roding anxiety, of those who watched and waited and 
prayed at home. 

After supper Si fixed himself up, with the help of his sis- 
ter, put on his hat and w^ent out. No one asked him where 
he was going, but his mother and Maria exchanged smiles 
as he remarked, with averted face, that he wouldn't be 
gone a great while. 

His heart beat furiously as he drew near to the house 
where Annabel lived. Perhaps its unusual agitation was 
due to his rapid w^alk to get there. Be this as it may, he 
found it necessary to pause a moment and make an effort 
to compose himself. Then he rapped timidly on the 
door, as if he were afraid of alarming the whole commu- 
nity. In fact, like Poe's fantastic raven, "so gently he 
came tapping" that neither the good farmer, who sat 
reading aloud the latest war news, nor his wife, who was 
listening while she mended the family hose, heard it. Old 
people do not always hear very well. 

But there was one whose quick ears caught the sound, 
just as though they had been listening for it. As Annabel 
rose to answer the summons, her heart was galloping not 
less rapidly than w^as the one beneath the blouse of the 
young soldier standing without — and she had not been 
doing anythingthat might cause such vigorous pulsations. 
Very softly she lifted the latch and opened the door. 

"Si!" 

"Annie!" 

There was no need for elaborate phrases of greeting. 



THE CURRENT RUNS SMOOTHLY. 54-1 

A whole lexicon could not have expressed more. Obeying 
her first impulse she threw her soft, round arms about his 
neck, while he made most efficient use of the one arm at 
his command. At no time since his hurt had he felt so 
sorely the need of two good ones. But then, if he had not 
b^en wounded he would not have had the privilege of see 
ing Annabel, and half oisuch a loaf was agood deal better 
than no bread at all. So he was comforted. 

Up to this time the interview had been so much in the 
nature of a pantomime that Annabel's father and mother 
did not know that it was going on. The farmer read on 
and his wife stitched away with her darning. 

An instant later there was a sound that the farmer and 
his wnfe did hear. Si, in his ardor, did not properly gauge 
the smack he bestowed upon the girl who was trembling 
in his embrace. It made the farmer drop his paper, and 
his wife start so that she pierced her finger with the needle. 
Both greeted Si with effusive cordiality. 

Fully aware of the childish partiality of Si and Annabel 
for each other, they had naturally watched his conduct 
in the army with something more than a mere neighborly 
interest. He had often been the subject of conversation, 
and Annabel knew that the faultless manner in which he 
had acquitted himself had won for him a warm place in 
their hearts. Nor did they seek to repress her growing 
fondness for a lad who had passed so honorably through 
the fiercest test of true manliness. Under these favoring 
influences the coy sensitiveness which she felt at first had 
been, in ameasure, gradually dissipated. So it was that at 
this time the presence of the * ' old folks " — usually considered 
a discouraging feature of such an occasion — caused no 
embarrassment to Annabel; v^diile the warmth of his 
reception at once put Si at his ease. 

For an hour his tongue was kept busy answering the 
multitude of questions from the farmer and his wife about 
the great battle, the neighborhood boys in Company Q, 



542 si'^s PLUCK. 

his wound, and his soldier life in general. There was now 
and then a word from Annabel, though she was mostly 
content to sit and listen. Si was supremely happy in 
the sunshine of her presence. Between their eyes there 
seemed to be a telegraphic communication, the result of 
which was mutually satisfying. 

"I s'pose ye won't go back to the army, now ye've got 
hurt so bad," said her father. Annabel glanced quickly 
at him, as if to read his answer before it was uttered. 

"Of course I will," he rejDlied, "'n' I shan't be a great 
while gittin' over this pin scratch. As long 's ther' is any 
Companj^ Q I'm goin' ter stay with the boys, 'nless I ketch 
it a good deal wuss 'n this !'' 

Annabel's eyes dropped to the floor, for thethought of his 
plunging again into battle was painful to her. She could 
not but admire his pluck, however, and his spirited answer 
raised him another peg in the estimation of her parents. 

When Si said he "guessed it was time for him to go" the 
farmer and his wife expressed the hope that they might 
see him often during his stay, and he mentally resolved that 
this hope should not be disappointed. 



CHAPTER XL. 

Si Gets a Big Letter From the Governor, Answers it, and Rejoins 

His Regiment. 

FOR days Si was besieged by those who wished to in- 
quire after their friends in Company 0. There were 
some sad interviews, as he told of one that was killed a^nd 
another that was wounded in the battle. One of the first 
to call was the neighbor who brought the news that day 
to Mr. Klegg, and whose son Tom died of his wounds at 
the field hospital. Si had carefully brought home the ar- 



mother's pretty quilt. 543 

tides Tom intrusted to his care, and delivered them to the 
heart-broken father. In reply to the latter's inquiries, Si 
described the death scene in a simple, earnest way that 
brought tears to the eyes of all who heard it. 

Si's furlough was for thirty days, with an assurance 
that it would be extended if he was not able to return to 
duty at the expiration of that time. Although the days 
passed like a happy dream, before the time was half gone 
he began to grow impatient. His arm was doing nicely, 
but the healing process, necessarily slow, was by no means 
fast enough for him. Every time his wound was dressed 
he examined it with a critical eye, and calculated the 
chances on his being able to start back at the end of his 
thirty days. He finally made up his mind that he would 
go, whether his arm was well or not. He was sure that 
he could make himself useful at the front in some way, 
and he longed to be once more in his place among his 
comrades. 

"Si,'" said his mother one day, as he sat eating a freshly- 
baked mince-pie, "ye can't think what a comfort it 's been 
to me to thiniv of yer havin' that nice warm quilt I gave 
ye when ye went away. There hasn't been a single eight 
when it was cold an' stormy that it hain't come to my 
mind what a blessin to ye it was that ye had it. I reck'n 
ye've slep' a good deal comfortabler than the poor fellow^s 
that don't have nothin'but their army blankets — an' some 
o' them, I hear, is awful shoddy. I s'pose there's lots o' 
the soldiers that hasn't got mothers to give 'em warm 
quilts." 

Si was in a tight place and did not know what to say. 
He had often thought of that quilt, since it met its cruel 
fate at one of the halts during the first day's march. 
Whenever he recalled the circumstance it caused a shock 
to his feelings to think hov/ glad he was to get rid of 
it, to ease his aching shoulders ; and it is not to be won- 
dered at that he had never had the courage to tell his 



54-4 SI MAKES A CLEAN BREAST OF IT. 

mother, in any of his letters, what had become of it. He 
was sure that if he did she would never forgive him. Now 
he was in a sad quandary. Something had to be said, and 
he racked his brain to find a way out of the woods. As 
he did not reply with his usual readiness his mother ven- 
tured the remark that maybe it was getting pretty well 
used up by this time. Si was quick to make the most of 
the opportunity thus offered, and he promptly answered 
that he believed it was " about gone up." 

"Well, it's all right," said his mother. "I was hopin' ye 
might bring it home with ye when ye was through sol- 
dierin', for I worked many an hour to make it, but I don't 
care if ye've wore it out, seein' it's done ye so much 
good " 

Then Si concluded he had better tell her the whole story. 
While he was about it he told her what became of most of 
the other pretty things with which they equipped him for 
the war. 

"I tell ye what, mother," he said, "it went mightily 
agin the grain ter do it, but 'f I hadn't I'd ha' been dead 
long ago. rd jest like to seen Fow tryin ter tote the load 
't I jdid. No, I don't mean that, nuther, fer I wouldn't 
fer the world have ye suffer 's I did that fust day we 
marched. My knapsack seemed like 't was 's big 'n' 's 
heavy 's a load o' hay, 'n' my gun like a saw-log, 'n' the 
catridge-box'n' canteen 'n' haversack all a-pullin"n' grind- 
in', 'n' me a-sv^eatin' t'U I w^as 's wet 's a drownded rat, 
'n' everv bone 'n my body achin', 'n' my feet all kivered 
with big blisters — I tell ye, mother, ef it had been a^ou, j^ou 
'd ha' flung them traps awa^^ long 'fore I did. I stuck to 
'em 's long 's I could, 'n' Shorty all the time a-tellin' me to 
git shet of 'em." 

Si's mother listened with some surprise. She had read 
about the suffering of the soldiers on the march, but she 
had never realized it before. Si had said very little about it 
in his brief and rather infrequent letters, for he wished to 



"not any more, thank you!'* 545 

avoid increasing his mother's soHcitude by letting her 
know what hardships thej^ were compelled to endure. 

"Well, I declare," she exclaimed, "how foolish we was, 
and didn't know it ! We thought them things was jest 
what ye wanted. Of course ye did right, Si. Ye oughtn't 
to tried to carry 'em at all. I'm glad ye told me, 'cause I 
was gettin' a lot more things read}' for ye when ye go 
back — which Heaven knows I wish ye didn't have to — an' 
now I low 3^e won't want 'em." 

"No, mother! I'm ever so much 'bleeged to ye, but a 
soldier 's better off 'f he hain't got but mighty little 'sides 
what the guvyment gives him. We thought we knowed it 
all, but it didn't take long ter find out 't we didn't know 
nothin'. We don't mind the marchin' now, fer we've got 
broke in — 'ceptin' once 'n a while when they crowds us 
extry hard — but yell have ter 'xcuse me f'mtryin'ter make 
a pack-mule o' myself ag'in. I b'lieve I know when I've 
got 'nuff. I guess I ought ter have a new fine-tooth 
comb, but I don't think o' nothin' else." 

Si was a little more diplomatic in explaining these things 
to Annabel. In fact he had hung on to the keepsakes she 
had given him with a tenacity that was the strongest pos- 
sible evidence of his regard for her. One by one the\' had 
succumbed to the inevitable, and through the accidents of 
campaigning had gone to swell the long list of casualties. 
All he had left was the locket he w^ore aro^md his neck. 
This had escaped the general wreck, though in a badly tar- 
nished and battered condition. The slippers he had carried 
for months, braving the rude jests and gibes which the}' 
never failed to elicit from his comrades. They were like a 
poultice to his feet after a day's march, though there was 
usually so much camp duty to be done that it was only 
now and then that he had a chance to put them on. One 
evening he went to sleep with his feet so close to the fire that 
the heat warped and twisted the soles into wrinkles and 
scorched the uppers so that they were no longer either use- 



546 THE FATE OF THE BIG KNIFE. 

fill or ornamental. This catastrophe was very depressing 
to Si, but time gradually softened the poignanc}' of his 
grief. In one of his interviews with Annabel he told her 
how much her kind remembrances had done to assuage the 
sorrows and discomforts of arm}' life. She thought the 
slippers must be about worn out, and said she would 
make a new pair for him, but he tenderh' dissuaded her bv 
the assurance that he wouldn't need any more. 

One da\^ Si's old Sunday-school teacher, who armed him 
with the big knife, called to see him. This excellent man 
had an idea that the brilliant individual record his former 
pupil had made — of which he was go proud — and the halo 
of glor}' that surrounded the name of the 200th Indiana, 
were chiefl}' due to the ghastl}^ havoc of that devastating 
weapon, as Si hewed his way toward the heart of the South- 
ern Confederacy. He asked Si about it, and the answer he 
received caused him great heaviness of heart. Si told 
him frankly that the knife had not created any need of 
orphan asylums, nor made any women widows. It had 
not been without its uses in camp. It was a good thing to 
chop off the heads of confiscated chickens, and did general 
utility service as a butcher-knife until its edge was gone. 
Then its usefulness waned, as grindstones were not issued 
to the army. Finally he broke it while trying to pr^^ open 
a sugar barrel, one dark night when he was on guard over 
a pile of commissary stores. Thus ended the picturesque 
romance of that knife, as an implement for the rapid extir- 
pation of the human race. 

Kind-hearted old ladies from all the region round about 
called at the Klegg farmhouse. Not one of them would be 
satisfied until she had seen Si's sore arm, and the pro- 
foundly sympathetic "m-m-m's" and "a-a-ah's" made 
him laugh in spite of himself. They wanted to see how a 
wound looked. Each of them suggested a healing emol- 
lient that alwavs "worked like a charm," and could not 
fail to "bring him 'round "in short order. No two of these 



A CONFLICT OF DOCTORS. 547 

remedial prescriptions were alike, but each was a sovereign 
balm, better than anything in the materia medica of the 
doctors. The faith of these noble women in the efficacy 
of their respective remedies was unbounded, based upon 
forty or fifty years of domestic experience. Si was so 
anxious to get well that he wanted Nature supplied with 
all jDossible accessories that might aid her in the work of 
restoration. 

One of these good Samaritans extolled the virtues of 
"goose-grease" — it was "powerful soothin'." She'd send 
Betsey over with a bottle, right away. Si's arm was 
copiously anointed with it, and the next morning he said 
he believed it was a good thing. 

Then came another matron who inquired with the ten- 
derest solicitude what he was doing for his wound. When 
informed of the application that \vas being made she held 
up her hands in astonishment. 

"The very wust thing yecould put on it," she exclaimed. 
"I know who 'twas reckimended that stuff; it was Wid- 
der Pottleby. She uses goose-grease fer everA'thing, from 
headache down to a stubbed toe. When folks gits well in 
spite of it she thinks it's that as does it. The best eint- 
ment in the world is mutton taller from a Southdown 
lamb killed at the full o' the moon, mixed ekal parts with 
cream from a three-j^ear-old Alderney heifer. I've been 
experimentin' with all the different kinds o' sheep an' cattle 
an' these mixes the best. I jest made up a fresh lot t'other 
day an' I'll send ye some." 

Then the goose-grease was carefully rubbed off and the 
new unguent was applied, only to give place, the next day, 
to some other homely specific. Everj- known variety- of 
salve, ointment, "ile," poultice, plaster, liniment and cata- 
plasm was urged, and, as the result of this universal sym- 
pathy, the mantels and \vindow-sills of the house were cov- 
ered with bottles and boxes, enough to stock a brigade 
hospital. Si's faith in them was badly shaken by the dis- 



^48 



FEASTING AND FATTENING. 



agreements of the numerous woman-doctors, and at length 
he wisely concluded that he would get along better with- 
out any of them. He thought his arm would get weli 
quicker "itself/' an opinion that was fully justified by 
the outcome. 

During the whole of Si's stay there was unabated activ- 
ity in the kitchen. His mother and sister exerted them- 
selves with a zeal that never for an instant flagged, 
to satisfy his appetite with everything that their combined 
skill could produce. He had unrestricted license to forage 
at will in the pantr}^ and the various cupboards which 
were used for the storage of pastry and delicacies. It is 

hardly necessary to say 
that he made the most 
of so choice an oppor- 
tunity, and as a result 
of his riotous living he 
fattened rapidly, fully 
recovering from the 
shrinkage of flesh that 
was the natural conse- 
quence of his hard field 
service. 

He went often to the 
village, w^here every- 
body met him with 
warm greetings. The 
SI AT THE CORNER GROCERY. blushiug maidcns 

smiled sweetly upon him, as he promenaded the streets, 
and the small boys regarded him as a more conspicuous 
figure in the w^orld's history than Napoleon Bonaparte, or 
Alexander the Great. Whenever he dropped into the corner 
grocery he was compelled to tell, over and over again, the 
story of the battle, for the edification of the loungers who 
sat around on the barrels and crippled chairs. The grocery 
was the village "clearing-house" for news of all kinds. 




AN IMPORTANT LETTER FOR SI. S-iO 

Here weight}- problems of war and statesmanship were 
solved, brilliant campaigns carried on, fierce battles fought 
over, and unmistakable conclusions reached as to how the 
war ought to be conducted. The listener could riot but 
realize what the country had suffered because these rustic 
patriots had not been chosen to lead the impatient armies, 
and pilot the ship of state over the tempestuous sea. 

Si and Annabel got on famously. He was a frequent 
visitor, basking in the smiles of the red-cheeked lass. 
Althotigh no word passed between them on the subject, it 
required no extraordinary gift of prophecy to foretell that 
by and by, when the cruel war was over, the parson would 
be called in. 

A day or two before Si left for the front there came to 
the post-office an envelope about a foot long, addressed in 
a large, bold hand, " Lieutenant Josiah Klegg." The post- 
mark showed that it was from the capital of the state. 
The village postmaster served as a kind of substitute for a 
daily newspaper. Hew-as the great disseminator of neigh- 
borhood news and gossip, much of which he obtained by 
guessing at the contents of the letters that passed through 
his hands. All these he examined and speculated upon with 
a skill only acquired by long practice. Si's big letter, with 
its impressive superscription, riveted his attention, and 
before it was called for half the people in the village knew 
all about it. 

Si drove into town that day, and the first person he met 
told him there was an important letter at the post-office 
for him. Before he reached the office half a dozen others 
had imparted the same information. 

"Hello, Lieutenant," said the smiling postmaster, as Si 
appeared at the threshold, "I've got a letter for j^ou." 

"Tliat's what everybody's been a-tellin' me," said Si. 
"But what ye talkin' that w^ay ter me fer? I ain't no lef- 
tenant!" 
"I have an idea that the man who wrote your letter 



t)50 



LIEUTENANT JOSIAH KLEGG.' 



knows more about that than you do, Si. Of course I don't 
know what's in it, but folks think I'm pretty good at 
guessin'. I 'low it 's from the governor." 

With feelings of mingled awe and bewnlderment Si took 
the ponderous missive. He turned it over and over, won- 
dering what its contents could be. He was a little piqued 
at the burning impatience of the postmaster to have him 
open it, and intimated that it was his letter, and he would 
wait until he was ready. When his agitation had sub- 
sided he wxnt out into the adjacent wagon-shed, and after 

assuring himself that 
no one was looking at 
him, he carefully tore 
open the envelope. With 
trembling fingers he 
drew out an imposing 
document, with a big 
red seal and bearing the 
signature of the gover- 
nor. He read with 
amazement that Josiah 
Klegg had been ap- 
! pointed a second lieu- 
tenant in the 200th 
Indiana. Accompany- 
A LETTER FROM THE GOVERNOR. ing it "\vas a pcrsoual 
letter in which the governor told him that he had been 
promoted in recognition of his conspicuous gallantry 
in the recent battle, which had been so honorable to him- 
self, his regiment and his state. 

Irnpelled by curiosity the postmaster hunted up Si and 

found him in a half dazed condition, scratching his head 

and trying to comprehend it all. 

"Well, Si,'' he said, "didn't I guess it about right?" 

"I'm jest teetotally flabbergasted," replied Si. "Ef I 

knowed of any othci Josier Klegg I slid think it meant 




HE couldn't go back ON SHORTY. 551 

him, but 'pears 's though I'm the feller the guv'ner 's 
after." 

"Let me be the first to congratulate you, Si — excuse me, 
I mean Lieutenant Klegg," said the postmaster. "You 
have nobly earned your promotion and we are all proud 
of you. I'm going to start a subscription to buy you a 
sword." 

But Si was already off and scarcely heard the old gentle- 
man's words. He was thinking only of the good people at 
home and how glad they would be to learn the news. It 
sounded strangely to hear people whom he met address him 
as " Lieutenant "—for the gossip of the postmaster had 
come to be universally believed. 

Si drove rapidly homeward. All the way he was think- 
ing of his promotion — as unexpected to him as would have 
been a stroke of lightning. How nice it would be to wear 
shoulder-straps, and swing a "cheese-knife." How proud 
of him his mother and sister Maria would be, and how 
happy he hoped it would make Annabel. Then it flashed 
across his mind that if he was an officer he could not 
have Shorty for his "pard" any longer, and that out- 
weighed all other considerations. He wouldn't be an 
officer. 

Si's face flushed with pardonable pride as he unfolded 
the commission before the astonished eyes at the farm- 
house. His declaration that he would not accept it was 
received with the greatest surprise. Maria told him he ought 
to be a brigadier-general. At first every effort was made 
to dissuade him from declining his promotion, but with- 
out avail. 

"Well," said his mother, at length, "Si knows best. 
It's jest as much honor to have had the commission sent to 
him, an' if he don't want it I s'pose he'll have to send it 
back." 

Si sat down and wrote to the governor. It was the 
most momentous undertakiikg in the way of writing a 



552 DECLINED, WITH THANKS. 

letter he had ever attempted. After a dozen fresh starts 
he succeeded in conve^ang his message. He wrote : 

Mr. Guvner 

Deer frend. i rite these few lines hopin you are enjoyin the 
blessins of good helth. i waseut expectin a letter from j'-ou speshly such 
a kind of one as i got today. Ime ever so much bleeged to ye Mr. Guv- 
ner fer sendin me that commishn but i verj^ respectively incline. In the 
fust place i aint fit to be no ossifer i dont no enuff cause ime jest nothin 
but a boy and haint never had much larnin. I can git long faster puttin 
down the rebelyun, that is helpin do it 3'ew no w^hat I meen, with my 
muskit than i can with a sord. Ive got used to my gun but I dont no 
nothin bout a sord an I never seen a sord hurt nobody nuther. Ef the 
army was all ossifers thout nobody to carry muskits the war wood- 
ent be over in a thowsan years. Course we needs to have ossifers an 
weve got some bully ones in the 200th ridgment. When ye want to 
make a new lot of em ye wont have no trubble a findin plenty thats 
bettern me an they wants sholeder straps wussen I do. But I haint toled 
ye the biggest reeson why i send \'e this dockj-ment. Its cause I cant go 
back on Short^^ Mebbe ye dont no Shorty but lies my pard an lies the 
boss soljer. Ef ye cood make him fust lewtenant i woodent mind bein 
seckond an then we cood bunk together sames we alius has. Hes nothin 
but a privit so i spose ye cant do it an ide ruther be jest Corporil Klegg 
ef its all the saim to you. 

Yer umbel sarvent 

Josiah Klegg 

P S pleese exkuse bad ritin an spellin. 

When Si's furlough expired his wound was not fully 
healed. His friends had urged him to have his leave re- 
newed but he was impatient to return and would not 
listen to their advice. Tearful farewells w^ere spoken, and 
with a handful of trifling remembrances — instead of the 
wheelbarrow-load with which he started out before — he 
boarded the train and went whirling awa3\ He was not 
wholly unincumbered, however, for the mothers and sisters 
of his company comrades had intrusted to his care for 
them many tokens of affection ; besides surcharging him, 
to the very muzzle, with a hundred verbal messages, not 
one in ten of which he could possibly remember. 

"When Si reached the camp of the 200th Indiana, still 
carrying his arm in a sling, he received an effusive welcome. 



shorty's amazement. 553 

"PV'aps I can't do much 'th my gun fer a while yit," he 
said to Shorty, whom he was overjoyed to meet, "but I 
couldn't stan' it no longer, 'n' I reck'n I kin find suthin ter 
do. Ef we git inter a fight I kin bite catridges 's fast 's 
half a dozen on ye kin shoot." 

After they had gone to bed that night Si told his com- 
rade' about the commission he had received from the eov* 
ernor. 

Shorty threw off the blanket and jumped to his feet with 
a shout of delight. 

"Pard," he said, "I'm gladder 'n I kin tell ye, 'cause I 
know how well ye desarve it. The guv'ner's head was 
level when he done that. I'll be mighty proud on 3^e, seein* 
ye rigged up like 'n ossifer. I s'pose ye got a gorjus out- 
fit. Why didn't ye put on yer leftenant's traps so the boys 
could see ye was some punkins ? " 

Si knew there was no sham in Shorty's words, and on 
his account almost regretted that he had declined the pro- 
motion. 

"Shorty," he said after a moment, "I'm 'feard ye won't 
like it, but I didn't keep the commishn. I jest sent it back 
ter the guv'ner." 

"What!" exclaimed his pard in amazement. "Sent it 
back ! Ef you ain't the biggest — " 

"HoF on, pard," interrupted Si, "I know what ye're 
goin' ter say. Mebbe I am, but wait t'll ye hear the hull 
thing. It was jest 'cause I couldn't go back on you, Shortv. 
I knowed I'd have ter take my grub 'long 'th ossifers 'n' I 
couldn't have ye fer my pard no more. Seemed ter me I 
wouldn't 'mount ter shucks 'thout you, 'n' that settled it. 
I writ the guv'ner 't ef he'd make you fust leftenant 'n' me 
second I'd call it a go." 

"Si," said Short}^ after giving expression to his surprise 
in a long, low whistle, "I kin tell j-e one thing; yewouldn't 
ha' sent that thing back ef Fd been thar! " 



CHAPTER XLI. 

i5i AND Shorty Re-enlist and go Home on "Veteran Furlough. " 

4 4 ^~^I," said Shorty, one cold night in January, "how 
^.J^ d' ye feel 'bout reinlistin' fer three years more?" 

The 200th Indiana was along wa^^ from its base of sup- 
plies, engaged in an arduous campaign. For many days 
the soldiers had been without tents. At this time they 
were bivouacking in the woods, with no shelter save sucn 
as they had made of sticks, boughs of pine and balsam, 
and a few rails and boards that were picked up by scour- 
ing that desolate region. It was snowing heavily and the 
biting blasts of midwinter howled among the trees. The 
men heaped high the blazing fires and hovered closely 
around them, grimy with smoke and shivering with cold. 
It was a wild, rough night, that made a soldier think of 
home in spite of himself. 

Si was standing before the fire, his front and rear freezing 
and toasting alternately as he turned himself around at 
frequent intervals. The smoke, whirled about in every 
direction by the wind, caused a copious and involuntary 
cshedding of tears, and steam ascended from his garments, 
wet by the melting snow. It may be doubted whether 
his mother or sister Maria or even Annabel could have 
identified him, in that dismal group. 

"What's that yeVe saj'in'?" he asked, in reply toShorty's 
remark. A general interest in the subject was manifested 
by his comrades, who formed a circle around the fire. 

554 



A SUBJECT FOR CONSIDERATION. 



555 



"I was only axin' ye," said Short3^ "liuw ye'd lilve ter 
out yer name down 'n' be swored in fer three years 'onger 
o' this sort o' thing. I was over to the 199th Michigan 
this atternoon 'n' I heerd the boys say the guvyment 
wants all the old schers ter reinlist. I reck'n f'm the way 
you fellers seems ter be fnj'yin' yerselves tonight ye'll all 
on ye jest go a-tumblin' up ter the 'cruitin' office — in a 
horn." 

"What's the idee o' their talkin' that way," said Si, "'s 
k)ng 's we've got a 
good bit ter sarve 
yet 'fore our fust .v j-j^ 
three 3'ears is up 
T sh'd think ther' 'd , 
be time 'nuff then ^ 
ter talk 'bout goin' 
in ag'in." 

" I don't quite 
git the hang o' the 
scheme myself, ' * re- 
plied Shorty, "but 
's near 's I c'd make 
out this 's the way 
on 't. Ther' don't 
nobody know how 
long this 'ere re- 
bellyun 's goin*" ter 
last. Don't seem 's ^ xmomentous question. 

if we'd made much headway yet puttin' on it down. Looks 
's if the war wouldn't quit t'll all the men 's killed off 'n' ther' 
ain't no people left 'cept the women. Then mebbe they '11 
pitch in 'n' keep it up. 'Twouldn't be s'prisin', f'm the way 
some o' the secesh women talks down here. They're good 
at fightin' 'th their chins. But ye see what the guvyment 
wants is ter git the dead wood on these old rijiments. 
Ye know most o' the fellers that's left in 'em has got purty 




556 SHORTV S DISCOURSE. 

tollable tough. They ain't none o' yer spring chickens. 
They've got used ter the arm}' grub 'n' the hard marchin' 
'n' lyin' 'round 'n the mud 'n' they kin stan' it; 'n' when 
't comes ter fightin' most on 'em 's got the best kind o' 
grit. 'Sides that they've got the hull business larned 'n' 
they alius knows jest 's well 's the gin'rals what 's got ter 
be did, 'n' they wades right in. When it comes ter reel 
red-hot campaignin', a hunnerd sich soljers is better 'n five 
hunnerd tenderfoots. Ye recolleck 't we wa'n't good fer 
much that fust day we marched, 'n' it's jest so 'th all on 
'em when they're green. It takes a long time ter make 
soljers outen such fellers, 'n' a good many on 'em dies in 
the makin'. Now 't the guvyment 's got a purty fa'r lot 
o' the fust-class article it wants ter freeze to 'em." 

"It's bully w^eather fer doin' that!" said Si. "I guess 
them big ossifers 'n Washington 'd think so ef they was 
here 'bout now." 

"Wall, that's the idee, "continued Shorty. "Ther' 's got 
ter be a heap o' hard fightin' 'fore this thing 's over, 'n' 
they want soljers 't they kin bet on every time." 

The members of Company Q had listened attentively to 
Shorty's remarks on the situation. The subject of re-enlist- 
ing had never entered their heads before. The time and 
circumstances did not seem propitious for such a suggestion. 
Hardships never came singly in the army. It was during 
the trying campaigns, when the men were footsore and 
weary, bivouacking without tents and exposed to the rigor 
of the storms which always came at such times, that ra- 
tions were short and hunger was added to the aggregation 
of human woes. It was so at this time with the 200th 
Indiana; and as the men stood around the fires, in the driv- 
ing snow, wet, shivering and famished, it would have been 
but natural if they had felt like mobbing a man who should 
come among them to urge them to re-enlist. 

Corporal Kleggwas the first to speak, as Shorty stopped 
to breathe. "Wall, boys." he said, plowing his fists into 



TWO OF A KIND. 557 

his eyes and ducking his head to escape a fresh cloud of 
smoke, "I dunno how the rest on ye feels 'bout re- 
inlistin', but ef they wants me ter jine ag'in I'm ready ter 
do it." 

"I'd go with 3^e, Si, ef I was a nat'ral born fool'" said a 
lank Hoosier, one of the constitutional grumblers of the 
company. 

"Look a-here, pard, ye don't want ter go to insini- 
watin' 'round like that, 'cause I ain't no fool! You don't 
have ter reinlist 'cause I do. I hain't axed ye ter jine. Ye 
kin do jest 's ye likes, but when I tuk a gun on my shoulder 
I calkylated ter stay t'll arterthe benediction. I never was 
in the habit o' goin' out t'll nieetin' was dismissed." 

"That's all right, Si ; 3^e needn't spunk up about it. If ye 
want three 3'ears more o' soljerin' I hain't no 'bjections, 'n* 
'twouldn't make no difference 'f I had. But I b'lieve I 
know when I've got enough, n' by the time m\^ three 3^ears 
is up I'll be 's full 's I kin hold." 

"That's my ticket, "said another. "They don't ketch me 
fer an\' more o' this. I'm goin' ter sta^^ 's long 's I agreed 
ter, 'f I don't git killed, 'n' then I'm goin' ter quit 'n' give 
s'mother feller a chance ter lug my traps a while. The 
woods up in Injianny is full o' men 't hain't 'listed 3^et, 'n' 
I'd like ter see 'em take their turn. No, I thank ye ; I don't 
want no more on it 'n mine. If any on ye reinlists 'twon't 
be long t'll ye '11 be kickin' 3'erselves fer doin' it." 

And so the talk went on. At first it seemed that Si was 
the onl}^ member of Company Q who was willing to enlist 
for another term. At length one of the bo3^s asked Short}^ 
who had taken no further part in the discussion, what he 
was going to do about it. 

"Wall," he replied, "it don't make much difif'runce ter 
me. I hadn't reely made up m}^ mind what ter do t'll I 
heerd Si sav he'd reinlist, 'n' that settled me. I ain't eoin' 
back on my pard. The 'cruitin ossifer 'd be sartin of a 
pair ef he sh'd start in tonight. I didn't quite git through 



558 NEW FACTORS IX THE CASE. 

tellir.' ye 'bout the business. The}- say 't every man 't 
reinlists '11 git a bounty of four hunnerd dollars." 

"Flow much did ye say?" asked Si, opening his eyes very 
wide. 

" Four huiinerd dollars !" 

"Jirainy, but that's a pile o' mone}^ — more 'n I ever seed 
'n my life to oncet. Lemme see; that's purty nigh 's much 
's a feller gits fer threej^earso'soljerin'. I s'pose they keeps 
payin' the reg'lar wages jest the same?" 

"Course they does !"replied Shorty. " The four hunnerd 
's extr3^"" 

This information gave a new interest to the subject, and 
had the immediate effect to modify somewhat the general 
feeling. A disposition was manifested to at least give the 
matter a fair consideration. 

"It'll be kind o'nice ter have them four hunnerd dollars !" 
said Si, "but I tell ye what 'tis, money ain't no objick. All 
the gold 'nCaliforny wouldn't hire me ter go through three 
vears o' this thing, same 's Fd hire out ter hoe corn erchop 
wood." Si could say this with good grace, as he had de- 
clared his willingness to re-enlist before he had heard any- 
thing of the bounty. 

"Right ye are, "said one of his comrades. " Money ain't 
much account to a feller arter he's planted two foot under 
ground; ner it don't pay fer havin' his arms 'n' legs sawed 
off. The bounty 's only the sugar they're coatin' the pill 
with so we '11 swaller it. Fer 's I'm consarned I'm goin' 
ter 'pass.' " . 

"Ther"s jest one thing more, boys," said Shorty, after 
they had spent some time in discussing the financial phase 
of the question. "All them as reinlists gits a thirty-day 
furlough right away, 'n' the guvyment takes 'em home n' 
brings 'em back ag'in, free gratis. I'll miss my guess 'f that 
don't fetch some on ye !" 

That magic word "home' —how it thrilled the hearts of 
those war-worn and weather-beaten soldiers ! The t : - 



AN EPIDEMIC IN COMPANY Q. 559 

derest chords vibrated at its touch. Shorty was right id 
his surmise that this would "fetch " many of them. The 
thought of spending a whole month in "God's country," 
with mothers and wives and sisters and sweethearts, eat- 
ing three "square," Christian meals a day, and sleeping 
under a roof, in a good bed, was something that few could 
withstand. The desire to re-enlist at once, under such 
conditions, spread through Company Q like the measles. 
They would stand by the old flag till the last rebel had 
laid down his arms — of course they would ! 

There was little opportunity for sleep that night in the 
cheerless quarters, swept by the wintry blasts and half 
filled with the drifting snow. Nowhere except close to the 
fires could be found the slightest approach to comfort. 
Far into the slowly-creeping hours the boys shivered and 
smoked and talked, with chattering teeth, about going 
home, and what they would have to eat when they got 
there. Before they turned in for the night most of them 
had reached the point of being actually afraid the chance 
to re-enlist would not be offered them. There were still a 
few who stoutly resisted the blandishments of bount3'and 
furlough, avowing their unalterable determination to 
repel all such beguiling influences, which, they said, were 
only bait to catch gudgeons. They did not propose to 
bite again, for they knew b}^ experience how keen the hook 
was. 

"Three years o' this kind o' sarvis,"said one of them, 
"ismv sheer. When all the chaps that's stayin' to hum 
has done that much, 'n' it comes my turn ag'in, mebbe I'll 
give 'er another whirl, but I don't want no more on it this 
time, ef the court knows herself, and she thinks she does. 
Them's my sentiments, 'n' I don't keer who knows em." 

"You jest wait t'll ye see Company Q gittin' ready ter go 
home, 'n' ye won't feel quite so cranky ! " said Si, who was 
getting much warmed up over the project. 

It is true Si had been home once, to nurse his wound, but 



560 SLEEPING OVER IT. 

he was more than ready to go again. He told the boys 
that he hoped the army would not move while they were 
away, for he wanted the 200th Indiana to have a hand in 
everything that was going on. It is possible that some 
were not quite so anxious on this point as he was. Indeed 
there is little doubt that, albeit they were proud of the 
regiment and of their part in winning its honor and fame, 
they would be resigned to the dispensations of Providence 
if it should h-appen that a great battle were to take place 
during their absence. This was not an unnatural feeling, 
for there were few who wore either the blue or the gray 
that did not crave fighting less and less, the more they 
had of it. 

At length, when the animated debate had exhausted the 
subject, and each man seemed to have fully made up his 
mind what he would do in the premises, they disposed 
themselves as best they could for rest. Some crept into 
their dreary "shebangs," wrapping themselves tightly in 
their blankets and overcoats. Others stretched out upon 
the w^et ground, as near to the fire as they could and yet 
be safe from absolute cremation. It was but a choice of 
two evils, either of which was bad enough. 

Si and Shorty calculated the chances for sleep and con- 
cluded to try the fire. Spreading a poncho and a blanket 
in the slush, they laid themselves down with a single 
i)lanket over them and a log for a pillow. The capes of 
their overcoats were drawn over their faces and tucked 
arotmd their heads, to protect them from the wind and 
mow and stifling smoke. 

Si finally went to sleep and dreamed he was eating a pie 
as large as a wagon wheel, when he was awakened by the 
warmth of a large coal that the snapping fire had landed 
apon his blanket, and which was rapidly burning its way 
through to his body. He sprang up with unusual agility, 
and for the moment resolved himself into a fire depart- 
ment. A hasty application of snow proved effectual, and 



THE DAWN OF AN EVENTFUL DAY. 561 

he then went to poking up the fire, \vhich sent a shower 
of sparks and a scorching blast over the forms that cov- 
ered the ground. After heaping on a fresh supph' of fuel he 
went around and put out the sparks and embers that had 
fallen upon his sleeping comrades, and again snuggled 
down by the side of Short3^ Scarcely anybody lay for an 
hour during the remainder of the night without getting 
up to extinguish his smoking garments and to stir the 
fire. 

The reveille sounded at dawn, but the bugler did not 
blow with his usual artistic excellence. His notes came in 
a feeble, discouraged way, telling plainly that he, too, had 
passed a sorry night. Everybody was glad that it was 
time ^o get up, and rejoiced to see the daylight again. It 
\vas a forlorn company that straggled into line in re- 
sponse to the "Fall in for roll-call," of the orderly. They 
answered "Here ! " in tones which, while fully establishing 
the fact of their presence, betrayed a wish that they were 
an^^where else. 

The first duty was to examine- the arms and put them in 
order, for such a night was apt to have a disabling effect 
upon muskets as well as men. It is true there seemed little 
probability that there would be immediate occasion to use 
them, for no doubt the "Johnnies," too, wherever they 
might be, were moping around smoking and spluttering 
fires, as solemn and lugubrious as so many undertakers. 
But it was better to be ready a thousand times when the 
rebels did not come than to be unready once when they 
did. So the boys wiped their guns with their ragged 
blouses, swabbed out the barrels, picked open the nipples 
and snapped caps to be sure they would "go" if they 
should want them to. 

The scanty breakfast — consisting of pale coffee, from 
"grounds" that had been repeatedly boiled over, a few 
fragmentary, water-soaked hardtack, and a rind of bacon 
— was quickly disposed of. The regiment was not to move 



562 CORPORAL KLEGG HEADS THE LIST. 

that day, and the boys expected to be ordered out for drill 
in the snow, but for some reason the officers forgot it. 
This was an oversight that did not often occur. 

The topic of conversation the evening before w^as still 
uppermost in the minds of the members of Company y, 
and all were eager to know whether what Shorty had told 
them was true, or was onl\^ another "grapevine." Their 
desire for official information was soon gratified. The 
company was ordered to fall in again, and the command- 
ing officer read the order from Washington regarding vet- 
eran re-enlistments. The terms and conditions were the 
same as Shorty had heard, except that a number was fixed 
as the minimum who must re-enlist in a regiment to entitle 
it to recognition as a "veteran' organization. It was 
further announced that, as all could not be furloughed at 
the same time without manifest injury to the service, the 
regiment in each brigade which first presented the requisite 
number of re-enlisted men should be the first to go. 

When the officer had finished Corporal Klegg swung his 
hat and led off witha yell, in which alfthe company joined 
except those who had thus far been proof against the con- 
tagion. But their wistful eyes showed that they were 
already contemplating a motion to reconsider. 

The veteran roll was opened at once. In matters of 
this kind there is nothing like striking while the iron is 
hot. Certainly no more favorable degree of heat could be 
expected than that which at this moment warmed into 
activity the emotions of Company 0. There was no table 
or desk or tent in the whole bivouac, but a folded poncho 
was laid across a log near one of the fires, a paper ready 
for signatures was placed upon it, a pen and a pocket ink- 
stand were produced, and the recruiting office was com- 
plete. 

Si Klegg was promptly at hand to take the pen and be 
the first to sign the roll. His fingers were stiffened by the 
cold, and he had a hard job of it, but in course of time 



SOME HESITATE — WHAT WONDER? 



563 



his pictiiresqtie autograph adorned the page. Others fol- 
lowed in quick succession, and three-quarters of the com- 
pany were ready to be mustered as veterans as soon as 
their names could be written. 

Then the work dragged a little. Those who had so 
firmly resisted all overtures were seen standing around 
uneasily, holding silent communion with themselves. 
The impulsive ones, who had responded so readily, \vere 
desirous that every man in the company should sign the 
roll, and plied their ob- 
durate comrades with 
persuasive words. 

Is it an}' wonder that 
they hesitated ? Was 
it not rather a wonder 
that any should con- 
sent to bind himself to 
three years more of 
such hardship and suf- 
fering? The life of a 
soldier had long since 
been stripped of all its 
fascinating show and 
tinsel. Fiction and ro- 
mance had given place 
to the stern and ghast- 




Iv realitv. The historv 



SI STARTS THE VETERAN ROLL. 

of the war records no grander heroism than that dis- 
played by the re-enlistment of two hundred thousand 
men. It was a critical time. The government needed 
those tried and trusty battalions, and the securing of 
ihem was its salvation. 

It was not cowardice that held back the few. None had 
been better soldiers than they ; and when the slow leaven 
ohould doits work none would be more brave, patient and 
laithful in the dim, uncertain future. Thev were of those 



564 THE LEAVEN AT WORK. 

who do not yield quickly to an impulse, but when their 
minds are made up cast no regretful glance l^chind. 

"Wall, boys, I'm with ye!'' exclaimed, at length, the 
leader of the opposition, who the night before had declared 
his fixed determination not to re-enlist. "Taint none o' 
yer coaxin' that 's done it nuther. IVe been thinkin' it all 
over 'n' I've made up my mind that it's the cVect thing 
fer us to do to see this thing through. I hope that if there 
's a God in heaven he won't let this cussed war last three 
years longer, but I'm. goin' to stay by the 200th Injianny 
as long as there 's anybody left to carry the flag." 

This patriotic outburst was greeted with uproarious 
cheers. The boys yelled with delight as the sturdj^ soldier 
deliberately marched up and with a firm hand signed his 
name to the roll. This important accession to the ranks 
gave a new impetus to the work of "veteranizing" Com- 
pany Q. The opposition was thoroughly demoralized, and 
those who had denounced the scheme now scrambled in 
their haste to get hold of the pen. Some of them said they 
had intended all the time to re-enlist, but they didn't see the 
use of rushing things. In a few minutes the last man had 
put his name to the roll; and then there went up a cheer that 
would have gladdened the heart of "Father Abraham," 
could he have heard it as it re-echoed through the bleak 
and drear}^ woods. With an ami}- of such men, victory 
was but a question of time. 

The captain of Companj^ was the first to report at 
regimental headquarters, and the colonel sent his compli- 
ments to the men for their prompt and emphatic response 
to the call of duty. Each of the other companies had the 
same experience in the process of patriotic evangelization. 
Many were ready to sign the rolls at once, while others 
gave to the subject grave and careful thought. A few re- 
fused to the last to be persuaded. But before night the 
figures showed that the minimum line had been passed, 
and the 200th Indiana was ready to be mustered in as a 



"three years or during the war." 565 

veteran regiment. The fact was immediately commu- 
nicated to the general commanding the brigade, who at 
once ordered that it should be the first to enjo^^ its fur- 
lough. It was directed to start on the following day. 

The men received the tidings of their good fortune wath 
glad shouts, again and again repeated. When the muster- 
ing officer came over to catch and string the fish that had 
been "biting" so freely at the bait, they hurried into line; 
and when the oath was administered they thrust their 
right arms up to their full length, evidently determined to 
make the ceremony as binding as possible. They had 
swallowed bait, hook and bob. 

"Say, Shorty," asked Si, after the prescribed forms had 
been dul}^ observed, "w^hat 'd the must'rin' ossifer mean 
when he said ' fer three j^ears er durin' the war ' ? S'posin' 
the w^ar hangs on forty er fifty years ; are we stuck fer the 
bull business? " 

" 'Durin' the war' sounds a leetle like that," replied his 
comrade, "but it means suthin else. I axed the cap'n 
today 'n' he said the guvyment couldn't hold us longer 'n 
three years 'thout wereinlisted ag'in. I reck'n tlier' won't 
be more 'n a corporal's guard left o' the 200th Injianny bv 
the time we've been through three j^ears more o' such sar- 
vis 's we've been havin'." 

"It don't make no partickler diff'runce ter me, nohow,'' 
said Si, "fer I'm goin' ter stay t'll the eend — either of the 
war er of me — but I was jest a bit curus to know what 
'durin' the w^ar' meant." 

"I'll tell ye what they put that in fer," said Shorty. 
"It's so 't ef the war sh'd happen ter wind up 'fore ver 
three years 's out, 'n' the guvyment don't want ye no 
longer, 3'e'll ha f ter quit 'n' go home. Don't \'e see 't ef 
the guvj^ment agreed ter keep ye three years, w^ar er no 
war, it 'd be 'bleeged ter do it, pervidin' 3'e wanted ter 
stay 'n' hold it ter the barg'in.'" 

Si burst into a paroxj-sm of laughter, so loud and long 



566 HILARITY IN THE 200TH IND/ANA. 

continued that his comrade feared he would go into 
a fit. 

"What on airth ails ye? " asked Shorty. 

"Ye struck my funny-bone, pard," replied Si, as soon as 
he could speak, "with that idee 't we 'd all want ter keep 
right on soljerin' arter they gits this fuss settled. This 
'ere sloshin' 'round, 'thout no tents ner no grubner nuthin' 
'cept fightin' — we've had plenty o' that — them big fellers 
must think it's a heap more fun 'nsleepin' under the kivers 
to hum, 'n' sittin' down to a fust-class lay-out mornin', 
noon 'n' night, 'n' hearin' a blessin' axed 'fore eatin'. That 
wouldn't be no good here, 'cause ther' ain't nothin' ter ax 
a blessin' on. The guvj-ment thinks we'reallaloto'idjuts, 
er else it's a mighty big durned fool ter s'pose ther"s any 
danger 't we'll want ter stay arter the rebils is licked." And 
Si laughed again till the tears flowed down his grimy cheeks. 

Not since the night the regiment left Indiana to take the 
■field had so great hilarity prevailed in the ranks of the 
200th. The men danced and sung and laughed and shouted 
in such a tumultuous way that an ignorant looker-on 
would have imagined that they were bereft of reason. 
One more night in the comfortless bivouac and they would 
turn their faces toward home. As the darkness settled 
down it seemed to them that never had fires blazed with 
such a cheerful glow. The bitter blasts had lost their sting, 
and before the e^-es of the glad soldiers appeared onh- 
visions of happy scenes and a brief respite from toilsome 
march and lonely picket — from hunger and cold and 
wretchedness. There was no thought of the toil and 
danger and pain that would come afterward. 

Si had observed with some concern that his pard did 
not fully share in the general rejoicing. While trying to 
imagine the cause of this, it came to him that Shorty had 
no home to go to — no loving friends to clasp their arms 
about him and weep for joy at his coming. He instantly 
decided what he would do. 



shorty's furlough. 567 

"Short J," he said, as he sat on a log before the fire, 
" whar je goin' ter spend yer furlough ?" 

For a moment Shorty did not reply. There was a sad 
look in his face that touched the sympathetic chords of 
Si's heart. 

"I can't jest tell ye what I will do with m\'self," he said 
at length. "Ye know, Si, 't things ain't divided round equil 
'n this world. Some has homes 'n' friends 'n' all that, 'n' 
I'm glad fer ye, pard, 't ye're one on 'em. Then, ag'in, 
there's others 't hain't, but goes driftin' 'bout like a boat 
'fore the wind 'thout no rudder. I'm oneo' them, 'n'p'r'aps 
it's jest as well that way. I reck'n I don't desarve ter have 
friends 'n' relations 'n' a place ter go to 't I c'd call home, 
er else I'd had 'em. It 'd be kind o' soothin' ter sich 's me to 
b'lieve ther's a place arter w^e git through livin' here, whar 
things 's evened up. Ye mustn't think. Si, 't I'm grumblin' 
'cause I ain't fixed like the rest on ve ; er 't I've sot the 
blues, fer I hain't, no more 'n I often gits 'em. I reck'n 
'tain't only nat'ral ter feel sort o' solemncholy when all 
the boys is lookin' forrard ter sich a good time 'n' ther' 
ain't nobody on earth 't keers a picayune whether I'm dead 
er 'live.'' 

"Don't ye say that, pard," said Si in a voice full of earn- 
est sympathy, "fer ye know 't I care a heap. Ef ye was 
my own brother I couldn't think more on ye !" 

"Wall I'm right glad ef 3'e do, but I guess 3'e're the only 
one. I tell ye Si" — and Shorty's lips quivered with emo- 
tions that had not often been awakened in his starved 
heart — "it's been a Heaven's blessin'terme'tlever know^ed 
3'e. Blessin's has been rayther skurce, 'n' when I git one 
o' the ginowine article it looks big to me. Fact is I'd 
'bout 's soon stay here 's ter go up t' Injianny 'n' lie 'round 
loose like a wagrant." 

"Shorty," said Si, looking squarely into the face of his 
friend, "7 kin tell ye whar ye're goin' ter spend yer month 
off, 'n' ye'U have a good time, too I'' 



568 SI DOES NOT FORGET HIS PARD. 

''Then ye're smarter 'n' I am'' replied Shorty, with a 
look of surprise and inquiry. 

"Would ye like ter know? Ye're goin' hum 'long 'th 
me. I want ye ter see father 'n' mother 'n' sister Maria 
'n' An — Annie — that's all right 'th you, Shorty, 'cause she's 
a nice gal 'n' she'll be glad ter see ye. I've writ to her 'n' 
all the rest on 'em 'bout ye, lots o' times. Now ye needn't 
go ter puckerin' up yer mouth ter say ye won't go, 'cause 
I'll go ter the colonel 'n' have him detail a guard ter make 
ye!" 

The first tears that had inoistened Shorty's eyes for 
many a 3'ear glistened in the firelight as he said, warmly 
grasping the hand of his comrade : 

"Si, when I fust got yer idee I thought ter myself 't I 
wouldn't accept yer invite, fer I didn't s'pose yer folks keered 
anything 'bout me''n'I didn't want ter be spongin' on 'em; 
but I b'lieve ye was 'n arnest when ye axed me, 'n' I'm 
goin' with ye. I don't 'low ter stay thar all the time, 
'cause 'twon't take 'em long ter git tired o' me. I'm ever 
so much 'bleeged to ye, pard." 

So this matter was satisfactorily arranged. Si was over- 
joyed at the thought of having his comrade go home with 
him ; and the prospect of spending his holiday as a guest 
in somebody's home threw^ a ray of sunshine across the 
clouded pathway of Shorty's life. 

The boys cared little whether they slept at all that night. 
Some of them tried to, but most of them huddled around 
the fires, in merry mood, with song and shout and mutual 
congratulations. Under the circumstances the strict camp 
regulations were relaxed, and the soldiers of the 200th 
-were permitted to do about as they pleased. 

In accordance w^ith the unanimous desire of the men it 
was determined to start at an early hour in the morning, 
as the regiment had to march two or three days to reach 
a point where railroad transportation would be provided. 
Breakfast — such as it was — was eaten before davlight, and 



AN UNTIMELY ALARM. 569 

five minutes later they were ready to fall in, for they had 
no pacKing to do except to roll up their blankets. When 
the bugle sounded and the colonel mounted his horse, the 
hoys set up a wild A^ell and hurried into line. 

It was a trying luoment for the "non-veterans," who, 
havmg declined to re-enlist, were to remain, temporarily 
assigned to a comparatively new regiment of the brigade, 
whose length of service was not sufficient to entitle it to 
the inestimable privilege of re-enlistment. The members 
of the little squad gazed sadly upon the preparations of 
their comrades to start homeward. Sallies of army wit, 
some of them keen and pungent, were aimed at the forlorn 
group. A few of the more stout-hearted kept up their 
"nerve" and shouted back that their turn to laugh would 
come after a few months, when they would go home to stay. 
But about half of them couldn't stand it any longer. They 
held a brief council of war and sent a delegate to the 
colonel to ask if they might yet be saved, or whether the 
day of grace was past. The colonel directed that an offi- 
cer be detailed to have them mustered at once, and by a 
rapid march overtake the column. The conversion of these 
men at the eleventh hour was received by the regiment 
with tempestuous shouts. 

At this moment every ear was startled by half a dozen 
shots on the picket-line, a mile away. Then the sound of 
drums and bugles was heard, regiments were hastily formed, 
and staff officers and orderlies galloped hither and thither 
with orders. The men of the 200th Indiana grasped their 
muskets more firmly and looked inquiringly into one 
another's faces. Was it an attack of the enemy? Must 
thc\' go into battle at this most unwelcome moment? 
Were some of them to get their eternal furloughs, or be 
borne away on stretchers ? 

"Ef it don't make any diff'runce ter the Johnnies," said 
Si to Shorty, "it 'd be my ch'ice ter have 'em wait t'll we 
git back, 'n' then we'll give 'em all the fightin' thev want 



570 MARCHING AWAY. 

— we'll jest fill 'em up. 'Course we ain't goin'ter run awar 
long 's ther' 's any sliootin' goin' on, 'n' we'll do all we kin 
ter arn our furlough 'f we haf ter, but it does go a leetle 
agin the grain this mornin'." 

The colonel made a speech to the boys, telling them he 
knew they didn't feel like fighting just then, and he did not 
blame them. "I feel a little that way myself," he said, 
''but if we are needed I know you will show them that 
you are worthy to be called veterans, and add new luster 
to the good name of the 200th Indiana." 

The boys swung their hats and cheered lustily. The col- 
onel needed no further assurance of their fidelity. 

But they were spared the test. The firing ceased and an 
aide, who had been dispatched to the front at the first 
alarm, returned with the intelligence that it was only the 
half-starved pickets firing at some pigs which came within 
range of their muskets. The loud profanity of the general 
and the colonels was drowned by the shouts of the soldiers. 
High above all others was heard the mighty yell of the 
200th Indiana. 

The men of the other regiments crowded around the 
happy Hoosiers to bid them good-by and God-speed, and 
to fire a few parting shots. 

"You fellers got the start of us by gittin' thar first, but 
weVe all comin'." 

"I reck'n j^e're purty empt}' in the stumick, same 's we 
are, but when ye git up inter God's country don't eat every 
thing up. Tell the folks to save suthin fer the rest on us.'" 

"Better peel off them old duds 'fore ye git home er yer 
gals won't know ye. They'll take ye fer a lot o' waga- 
bonds." 

The band at brigade headquarters plaj^ed "The Girl I 
Left Behind Me,'' and then "Home, Sweet Home,'"' as the 
200th Indiana went swinging away on its "veteran fur- 
lough." The steps of those eager feet were longer thac 
the regulation twenty-eight inches. 



A GENERAL REJUVEXATIOX. 



571 



The distance to be marched would usuall} have taken 
three days; the homeward-bound regiment covered it in 
two; and no complaint was heard of aches or blisters. 
The fear that the time consumed in traveling would be 
taken out of the furlough, was quieted by the assurance 
of the officers that the full thirty da\'S w^ould be given 
after the regi*,xent reached Indiana. 

There w^as a day or two of impatient waiting when the 
railroad was reached, but at length a motley train of flat, 
box and odorous cattle :,— -^>- 
cars w^as provided, and ^^^ -^^^"^^ 
the men, not forgetting ^^fe ^^^^^^^^^ 
to yell, swarmed in and 
upon them. They were 
not disjDOsed to be hy- 
percritical about their 
accommodations. 

When the first depot 
jf supplies was reached 
zhey drew entire new 
outfits of clothing, from 
hats to hose. But for 
their weather-beaten 
faces, they might have been mistaken 
for new troops. The practiced eye,' 
however, could easily detect the firm, 
confident step and soldierly bearing on thk way to "god's 
that told of long service. country." 

Wherever opportunity offered, duringthe homeward jour- 
ney, extraordinary demands w^ere made upon the hotels, 
restaurants, barber-shops and bath-houses. The effect of 
these various regenerating agencies was to so transform 
the men ot the 200th Indiana into the semblance of civ- 
ilized beings that their comrades, who w-ere still crowding 
around the smoking fires in the forest bivouac, w'ould have 
thought they belonged to another planet. Scraggly beards 




572 "red-letter" days. 

were shaved off; long mustaches were trimmed and waxed ; 
heads were shorn of luxuriant crops of hair, and what re- 
mained was neatly combed and perfumed; collars and 
neckties were put on ; and many indulged in the luxury of 
white shirts. Part of the bounty had been paid in ad- 
vance, and mone\' was lavishh' spent. Expense was no 
consideration when anything was wanted. 

A little more than a week from the da}^ the regiment left 
the front Companj^ Q reached home. Si Klegg had hoped 
to surprise his parents and sister and Annabel, but, as 
before, the telegraph had tipset his plans. The news that 
the company would arrive spread through all that region, 
and the boys were received with great effusion of tears and 
cheers by a multitude of people. 

Inamoment Si was imprisoned in the arms of his mother 
and sister. When they released him he greeted Annabel, 
who was blushing like a peonj^, with a smack as loud as 
a pistol shot. He didn't care now who heard it. Then he 
presented Shorty all ai-ound, and "Si's pard " received 
abundant assurance that he was welcome. 

Those were "red letter" days. Farmer Klegg's good 
wife and daughter cooked and cooked, and Si and Short}- 
ate and ate. Si frequently strolled over to the neighbor's 
house, and he and Annabel were unanimous in their opinion 
as to what they would do "when Johnny comes marching 
home." Shorty did not carry out his intention to stay 
only a few days. The proposition to go elsewhere was re- 
ceived with such disfavor by all the members of the family, 
including "sister Marier," that he v^as forced to yield, and 
passed the entire month at the hospitable home. Si even 
indulged the hope that Shorty and Maria might take a 
mutual "shine" to each other, but in this he was doomed 
to disappointment, so far, at least, as outward appear- 
ances were concerned. Shorty never got any further thai? 
to remark confidentially to Si that she was "a nice girl." 

Si had feared that his mother and the rest v/ould re 



A JUDICIOUS INVESTMENT. 573 

proach him for re-enlisting, iDtit the Spartan spirit was 
stronger than ever in their breasts, and thev lavished upon 
him only words of love and prayer and lolessing. 

The happy davs passed swiftly, and yet Si and Shorty 
grew impatient" to' return. It was with cheerful hearts 
that they said adieus and went whirhng away to the place 
of rendezvous. The men were prompt to report, and when 
the rer^iment was drawn up to take the train a distin- 
guished citizen, in behalf of admiring friends, presented to 
it a new stand of colors, with a burst of sanguinary elo- 
quence. Then, amidst the shouts of the multitude, the 
200th Indiana started again for the field of glory. 

The soldiers knew, by long experience, just what they 
wanted and what they did not want. They had all im- 
proved the opportunity to fit themselves out v^nth small 
coffee-pots and frying-pans, and a few other articles of 
necessity and convenience; but all the ill-judged though 
kindly efforts of mothers and sisters and sweethearts to 
load them down as they did when they first went to the 
war, were mildly but firmly resisted . The most important 
investment made by Si and Shorty was in providing them- 
selves with Henry repeating rifles— sixteen-shooters— and 
a bountiful supply of ammunition. 

" I reck'n them '11 make the Johnnies feel tired/' re- 
marked Si. 



CHAPTER XLII. 

'u WHICH THE Boys are Domiciled in "Pup" Tents— Some Curious 
Features of Army Life. 

4 i C^ -^Y, Shorty, what kind o' contrivance is a shelter 
O tent?" 

This inquiry was occasioned by an order from the com- 
manding general, which had just been read to the 200th 
Indiana on dress-parade, to the eftectthat the army would 
move on the following day. A protracted campaign was 
expected, and all company baggage would be sent to the 
rear. Tents were included in the order, and everything 
else except what the men — and officers below the rank of 
colonel — could carry on their backs. Although the order 
did not say so in words, there was good reason to believe 
that the soldiers would bidalast farewell to their comfort- 
able canvas dwellings, for in their place shelter tents — 
whatever they were — would be issued immediately, and 
the army must strip itself down to the lightest marching 
order possible. 

Si never had heard of a shelter tent before, and he natu- 
rally wanted to know" what it was. Shorty was not able 
to throw any light on the subject, and further inquiry 
developed a dense and universal ignorance. In fact every- 
body in Company Q was trying as hard to find out as Si 
was. They asked the captain and he didn't know — at 
least hesaid he didn't, and as the officers were never known 
to tell fibs, what he said was probably true. 

574 



THE "SIBLEY TENT." 575 

In 1861 most of the troops, on taking the field, were 
furnished with the "Sibley" tent. This was a spacious 
pavihon, large enough for a good-sized circus to show in. 
•When pitched it was a perfect cone in shape, the apex be- 
ing fully twelve feet from the ground. The foot of the 
center-pole rested upon an iron tripod, the limbs of which 
straddled out like those of a "daddy-longlegs," covering 
a great amount of territory. This tripod, with sprawling 
feet, seemed to have been invented expressly for the soldiers 
to stumble over w^hen moving about at night. It was 
admirably adapted to this purpose. 

The v/riter remembers a burly fellow of his mess coming 
in at midnight after a trick of duty. The tripod caught 
him on the shin and threw him heavily across the feet of 
three or four of his messmates. A stenographic report 
of the remarks that were made would not be good Sun- 
day reading. Leaping to his feet in a raging condition, the 
soldier sought to wreak his vengeance upon the tripod. 
Seizing one of the legs he gave it a tremendous "yank" 
\vhlch threw out the center-pole, and the tent came down 
flat upon the baker's dozen of prostrate forms. The pole 
in its promiscuous descent struck the head of one of the 
boys and raised a protuberance that lasted him a fortnight. 
There were three or four nationalities represented in the 
mesS; and for some minutes a spirited conversation was 
carried on in as many different languages. Nearly the 
whole company turned out to see what the riot was about. 
The captain came on the run, looking like a ghost in his 
white underclothing, evidently thinking an insurrection 
had broken out. At length, when their wrath had some- 
what abated, the boys fell to and put up the tent. To the 
credit of the shelter-tent may be placed the fact that after 
it was in use no catastrophe of this kind was possible. 

Five or six Sible}^ tents were supplied to a company, and 
the men were packed like sardines in a box, from fifteen to 
eighteen in each. At night they lay with their feet mixed 



576 IT HAD TO GO. 

Up with those of the tripod around the center, while 
their bodies radiated outward to all points of the 
compass, like the spokes of a wagon wheel, their heads 
fringing the outer rim. Each man's knapsack marked the • 
particular section of ground that belonged to him. Before 
the messes began to be thinned out by the casualties of 
war, the men slept like a great circular row of spoons, and 
if one wanted to turn over to give the bones on the other 
side a chance, it was difficult to do so without creating a 
serious disturbance in the harmony of the formation. So 
he would yell out the order to "flop"' and all would go 
over together, reversing the spoon along the whole line. 

The Sibley tents were cumbrous things to handle, and 
enormously bulky. A regiment with sixty of them, and all 
other baggage in proportion, required a train of wagons 
sufficient to transport a menagerie. The lumbering ve- 
hicles, crammed to the top of the bows, with camp-kettles, 
knapsacks, and odds and ends of all kinds: hung on at 
every available point, made a picturesque and imposing 
parade as they filed out upon the road. 

But the Sibley tent had to "go." The armies grew rap- 
idly, and it became a grave question whether there were in 
the country enough mules available to haul Sibleys for a 
million men. The second year of the war the shrinkage 
began. In the writer's experience there was a disastrous 
collapse that was sudden and complete. Caught in a tight 
place, the tents and baggage of three or four brigades were 
burned that they might not fall into the hands of the enemy. 
The_y made a sjDlendid fire, but the hearts of the houseless 
tramps sank as thc}^ saw them disappear in that great 
holocaust. During the twelve weeks that followed, of al- 
most constant marching — amidst the chilling rains of fall 
and winter, often bivouacking in cultivated fields, with mud" 
over shoe-tops — those men did not once sleep under the 
friendly cover of a tent. 
To justify the writer in giving his own recollections of 



THE REDUCING PROCESS. 



577 



the Sibley tent, he puts in evidence the fact that Si Klegg 
did not shoulder a musket until after the reducing process 
was well advanced. The Sibley had wholly disappeared 
from the field, and was only used where troops were per- 
manently' stationed. 

A-fter the Sibley came the " A " or " Wedge ' ' tent— the shape 
of which is, perhaps, indicated clearly enough bj'its name— 
and the "Bell" tent, which was much like it, except 
that it swelled out at each end, increasing its capacity'. 
Five or six men could be comfortably domiciled in the A 
tent, and from eight to ten in the Bell. A year or so later 

the quartermaster gave the 
thumb -screw another turn 
and squeezed out the unique 
shelter tent, which \vas as 
near the point of none at all as 
it was possi- 
ble to reach. 




THE SHRINKAGE OF THE TENT. 



Early in the morning the members of the 200th Indiana re- 
ceived their shelter tents. To each man was given a piece 
of stout cotton cloth, about six feet long and four feet wide. 
Alono- one edg^e half of them had a row of buttons, and the 
other half had button-holes to correspond. It took two — 
One of each kind — to make a tent, in which two men were 
to live and move and have their being. 

In the scramble to get possession of the newest thing in 
war — this masterpiece of militar}^ invention — the halves 
were distributed in the most miscellaneous way, without 



578 SHORTY SOLVES THli x^ROBLEM. 

any reference to the buttons and button-holes. It will be 
easily understood that it was indispensable for two men to 
"go snacks " on the tent business, and that "pards '' must 
have two pieces that would go together. 

Si and Shorty found themselves each with a section that 
was decorated with a row of buttons. They had not yet 
been enlightened as to the manner in which a beneficent 
government intended they should be used. 

"Well I'll be dog-goned, ef that thing don't git me!" 
exclaimed Si, after he had thoroughly inspected this work 
of genius, turning it over and around and eyeing it from 
every possible point of view, longitudinally, transversely 
and diagonally. "That's the queerest thing fer a tent I 
ever heern tell of. Got any idee how the old thing works, 
Shorty?" 

The latter had also been wrestling with the problem, and 
his mental processes seemed to have been rather more suc- 
cessful than those of his comrade. He told Si that he be- 
lieved he could see through the scheme. Inquiring around 
among the other members of Companj^ Q, all of whom 
were similarly engaged, he found that part of the pieces 
had holes where his own and Si's had buttons. Bringing 
his reasoning faculties into play he was not long in reach- 
ingf a satisfactorv conclusion. 

"I'll tell ye, Si," he said, "ourn don't fit 'cause they've 
got all buttons. That's what's the dif-/iz-culty. Part on 
'em 's got button-holes, 'n' one onus '11 have ter trade with 
some feller that's got more holes 'n he knows what ter do 
with, 'n' then we'll see 'f we can't make 'em jine! " 

A little inquiry developed the same confusion on all sides. 

There was a general effort to secure a proper adjustment of 

the pieces, and exchanges were quickh' and cheerfulK'made. 

"Thar! " exclaimed Shorty, "you begin on that side 'n' 

let's button 'er up 'n' see what she looks like ! " 

In a minute their nimble fingers had connected the two 
pieces. 



THE "WHAT-IS-IT." 579 

"Wall," said Si, "I don't see notliin' yet 't looks like a 
tent/' And his curious eye critically surveyed the cloth 
that lay spread out upon the ground. 

"Jest you wait a bit, 'n' I'll show ye a trick," said his 
comrade. "We'll try 'n' find out how she goes 'fore we 
start this mornin', so we'll know whether we're goin' ter 
have anything ter sleep under t'night. You hunt up a 
coujjle o' forked stakes 'bout 's high "s yer bread-basket, 
'n' I'll squint 'round fer a ridge-pole." 

Si was not long in finding his part of the outfit, and 
Shorty soon appeared with a stick an inch in diameter and 
six or seven feet long. They forced the stakes a little way 
into the ground and put the ridge-pole in place. 

"Now stretch 'er over," said Shorty, "'n' we'll have a 
tent 'fore ye know it." 

Suiting the action to the word they threw the cloth 
across the pole and pulled it out each way at the bottom, 
fastening it to the ground by pegs driven through the 
loops of stout twine provided for that purpose. 

"Thar, what does that look like? " observed Shorty, as 
he cast an admiring glance upon the imposing structure. 

"Looks to me more like a chicken-coop er a dog-kennel 
'n it does like a house fer two men ter live in," said Si. 

It could not be denied that there was force in Si's re- 
mark. It was three feet high to the ridge, and the 
"spread " at the bottom was about four feet. 

"Git down on yer marrow bones 'n' crawl in," said 
Shorty, himself setting the example. Thc}^ went in on 
their hands and knees and squatted upon the ground. 
Their heads rubbed against the sloping sides. 

"Beats all creation, don't it Shorty-? Ef we had the 
man here 't built that thing we'd toss him 'n a blanket 
t'll he couldn't tell which eend his head was on; 'n' then 
we'd set the fifes ter playin' the Rogue's March 'n' ride 
him out o' camp on a rail." 

This expression of opinion seemed to meet with uni- 



580 



THE NEW TEXT CHRISTENED. 




versal approval from the rest of the company, as they 
gathered around for the purpose of inspection. If the in 
ventor of the concern had made his appearance at that 
moment, had he succeeded in making his escape at all from 
the avenging fury of those exasperated Hoosiers, it would 
have been in a badly disabled condition. Taunts and 
scoff's and jeers, and words of harsher sound, were hurled 
at that poor little tent. It is safe to say that no new 
thing ever produced on this or an\^ other continent was 
greeted wnth such a torrent of ridicule and 
vituperation. Some of the boys crowed 
and clucked after the manner of fowls, while 
others whistled at ?' 
Si and Shorty as if ^J' 
to call out the dogs 
from their kennel. 
It was immediate- 
ly christened the 
" pup " tent, and 
till the end of the 
war it was known -;?=ir~^ 
only by that name, 
through all the 
armies, from the 
Potomac to the Rio 
Grande. Often the 
ridicule conveyed by this name was intensihed by putting 
in another letter and making it "purp." 

There were many names, words and phrases in the free- 
and-eas}'' language of the soldiers that were universal. 
It seemed as though some of them had their origin spon- 
taneouslv, and at the same time, in armies hundreds of 
miles apart ; or, starting at one point, thej^ were carried 
upon the Avinds to the remotest camps. Wherever the flag 
floated, the staff of army life was called "hardtack. " Its 
adjunct, bacon, was known by that name only on the req- 



THE pup' tent. 



THE ARMY " LINGO." 581 

uisitions and books of the commissaries. An officer's 
siioulder-straps were "sardine-boxes "' and his sword was 
a '" toad-stabber " or "cheese-knife." Abrigade commander 
was a "jigadier-brindle ; " camp rumors were "grape- 
vines;" marching was "hoofing it;"' troops jDcrmanently 
stationed in the rear were known as "feather-bed soldiers;'* 
and raw recruits were "fresh-fish.'" Among scores of ex- 
pressions, many of them devoid of sense or meaning except 
as they were used by the soldiers, were "Grab a root;" 
"Hain't gotthesand;" " Git thar', Eli;" "Here's yer mule;" 
"Same old rijiment only we've drawed new clothes ;" "Go 
for 'em;" "Hunt ^-er holes;" " Bully fer 3'ou." The word 
"bully" — more expressive than elegant — entered largely in- 
to the army vernacular; it seemed to "fit" almost an^'- 
where. 

Since the war there have been a score of widely different 
explanations of the origin of "Grab a root!" It was 
heard in every regiment, and its application was \videl3i 
diversified. If a comrade on foot made a mis-step, or an 
accident of any kind befell one who was mounted, a hun- 
dred men would yell "Grab a root!" The bo^^s usually 
took great satisfaction in shouting it in the ears of a gay 
and dashing staff officer, who might be galloping along 
the flank of a moving column, or between the blue lines 
on either side of the road during a "rest." If he chanced 
to be an unskillful rider, and bumped about in his saddle, 
he was vociferously exhorted to "grab a root." The 
theory of the yelling soldiers seemed to be that if he would 
do this he might be able to save himself from tumbling 
off his horse. The helpless offi.cer usually looked as if 
he would like to "grab" a whole armful of good-sized 
"roots" and fling them at the heads of his tormentors. 
The boys did not often try it on a general — unless it was 
night, and pretty dark. 

The soldiers of the ^OOth Indiana loaded upon the 
wagons the tents that had so long sheltered them, and 



582 SI DISCARDS THE KNAPSACK, 

they never saw them again. The order said they would 
be sent to the rear "for the present, '' but the boys learned 
in course of time just what that meant. Henceforward 
the "puj]"" tent was to be their onl}^ protection from sun 
and storm. 

When the call was sounded for the regiment to fall in 
and take the road, Si and Shorty found that it did not 
require more than two minutes to "strike" their little tent, 
detach the halves, and roll them up read}^ for transporta- 
tion. Each half weighed scarcely more than two pounds 
and its addition to the soldier's load was bareh^ appre- 
ciable. 

By this time Si had reached that stage in his army career 
when he could wholly dispense with a knapsack. Shorty 
had parted company with his some time before, and Si 
had been thinking for a good while about cutting loose 
from this incumbrance. All the sentimental notions, of 
which his head was so full when he started out, had en- 
tirely vanished. With them had disappeared the last 
vestige of everything that was not a necessity, save only 
Annabel's well-worn locket — which had a permanent rest- 
ing place near the spot where he imagined his heart to be 
located — and two or three trifling keepsakes that bestowed 
away in the pockets of his blouse and trousers. His knap- 
sack was about worn out, anyway, and he concluded it 
was not worth while to draw another. His "dress coat," 
in which he used to feel so grand at Sunday morning in- 
spection and evening parade, had long since gone to join 
"the innumerable caravan" of things which, at first con- 
sidered indispensable, came to be only a useless burden. 
In fact he did not have anything to carrj^ in his knapsack 
worth speaking of Sometimes he had an extra shirt or 
pair of drawers and sometimes he didn't. He was equally 
well and comfortable and happ}^ whether he had or had 
not a reserve supply of these articles. When he had no 
clothes except those he wore, he found abundant compen- 



AND IS A VETERAN INDEED. 583 

sation for his poverty in the fact that his load was so 
much the lighter. When his shirt gave abundant evidence 
that its da3's of usefulness were past he would draw a new 
one, put it on, and throw the old one away. 

In short, Si had now "learned his trade." Some had 
proved more apt pupils than he, for he had been loth to 
cast awa\' his cherished idols •; but at last he had mastered 
his lesson. Little by little he had found that there was a 
great deal besides knowing how to load a gun and push a 
bayonet that was necessary to make a toughened and 
thoroughly efficient soldier — one who could be depended 
upon not only to charge up to the mouths of blazing can- 
non, but to march twentj'-five miles a day and do picket 
duty at night, on half rations, in all kinds of weather, 
for weeks at a stretch. Such men there were, b}- tens of 
thousands, whom nothing but the deadl}- missiles of war 
could kill. 

So when Si, that morning, rolled up his overcoat and 
half of a pup tent inside his blanket, tied the ends together, 
threw it over his shoulder, and marched off at a swing^insf 
gait, he was justly entitled to be classed as a veteran — a 
soldier, in the fullest significance of the word. He was one 
of the happy-go-lucky sort, who took things as they came 
and never had "the blues." To him the rain did not seem 
so wet, nor the sun so hot, nor the "tack'' so hard, nor 
the miles so long, nor his "traps" so much as if thev 
weighed a hundred ounces to the pound, as thej'^ did to 
those less buoyant and elastic in spirit than he. Blister^ 
came less often than formerU^ upon his now calloused feet, 
w^hen they did, he would tramp along just the same. He 
had "got used to it." 

"They're gittin' things down ter a purt}^ fine pint, ain't 
they, Shorty,'' he said, as he trudged along, "makin' us 
lug our houses on our backs, 'sides the muskits 'n' am'ni- 
tion 'n' groceries 'n' bed'n. I don't see 's they c'n crowd 
us any furder 'nless they makes us tote the ossifers' duds. 



i84 



WHAT NEXT? 



Mebbe they'll pile onto us the hay 'n' corn ter feed the 
hosses. It's bin gittin' wuss 'n' wuss ever since we fust 
started out, but I can't 'niagine what it '11 be next. P'r'aps 
arter we've marched the mules to death they'll hitch us ter 
the waggins. I reck'n that wouldn't be much wuss 'n some 
things we have had ter do. D'ye s'pose ye'd ha' 'listed, 
Shorty, ef ye'd ha' knowed all 't ye had to go through?" 

"Would jow, Si?" 
"I — b'lleve — I- 
would," he replied, 
speaking slowly and 
thoughtfully. "I 
know I would," he 
added, "but mebbe 
I wouldn't ha' been 
quite so fierce 's I was 
fer gittin' in. I didn't 
s'pose ther' was very 
much reel solid fun 
'n goin' to war, 'n' I 
hain't found no rea- 
^^' son yet ter change my 
notion. Ther'isalee- 
tle bit, now 'n' then, 
'n' ye know I've alius 
tried ter git all ther' 
was goin'. But ye 
didn't answer my 
SI AS A VETERAN. qucstlon yct." 

"Oh, 'twouldn't ha' mattered much ter me," replied Shorty. 
*'I 'low 't I Avent in with my eyes opened wider 'n yourn was. 
Ye know I'd had a tetchon it in the three months' sarvice, 
though that wa'n't a patchin' ter what I've struck since I 
j'ined this 'ere rijiment. I 'xpected hard knocks 'n' I've got 
'em, so I ain't noways dis'p'inted. But I tell ye what 'tis. 
Si, I b'lieve there's more 'n one man dead that 'd bin livi i' 




A CAMP OF "pup" tents. 585 

yet if he'd had sich a feller 's you be fer a pard. It makes a 
heap more diff 'runce 'n ye think whether a man 's down in 
the mouth all the time er not. Ye've been wuth more ter me 
'n forty-'leven doctors. I hain't never tuk no medicine 'cept 
when I was playin'ofif, 'n' I don't 'ntend ter'f I c'n help it." 

Everyday were more firmly cemented the ties that bound 
together Si and Shorty. Each knew the other s true, irianly 
worth, and the hardships and dangers shared and the suf- 
ferings endured had so united them that in their thoughts 
and feelings, their devotion to duty and toeach other, their 
hearts were as one. They were friends of the kind that 
"sticketh closer than a brother," and would have faced 
for each other any peril, however great. 

As the army halted, toward evening, the great bivouac 
presented a scene of unwonted activit3\ There was a gen- 
eral rush to put up the new tents. The adjacent woods 
literally swarmed with men in quest of forked sticks and 
poles, the demand for which quite exhausted the supply. 
Then in a few minutes, as if b\^ magic, the little patches 
of white cloth dotted field and hillside, far and near. For 
fifty thousand men there were twenty-five thousand of 
them. It was almost as if an untimely snow-storm had 
whitened the earth. 

With a mixture of mirth and profanity, the men crept 
into and took possession of their novel quarters. An 
army on its knees \vould have been, under certain condi- 
tions, a most gratif\'ing spectacle to the chaplains, but it 
is to be feared that the universal posture at this time 
afforded them little spiritual encouragement. The lan- 
guage generalh" used did not indicate that the army was 
engaged in evening devotions. The men scrambled around 
and "made down " the beds. Such as could get an armful 
of straw counted themselves fortunate, while others made 
mattresses of boughs or bushes. 

After supper they stretched out their weary limbs to rest. 
They made the night hideous with their yells and cat-calls 



586 MAKING IT WARM FOR THE OFFICERS. 

and barkiiin^s, as if thev iraa£fined themselves transformed 
into the various species of domestic animals that might 
be supposed to inhabit such dwellings. They made the 
quartermaster, who supplied them with the pup-tents, 
wish that he had never been born. The commanding 
general, who issued the order for the c|uartermaster to do 
it, came in for his full share of attention. 

Occasions were not infrequent when whole regiments 
and brigades, utterU^ disregarding the sanctity- of rank, 
filled the air with A-ells and shouts and gibes aimed 
directly at certain officers, often in high command, on ac- 
count of some order or action that was distasteful to the 
men. Dark nights were usually taken advantage of for 
such performances, when it was impossible to identify in- 
dividual offenders. If an officertried to "catch" anybodv 
at it, he fottnd himself attempting the biggest job of his 
life. Hearing the derisive shouts in a company' on one 
flank of the regriment, he would hasten thither onlv to find 
the men snoring as if asleep. Then there would be an out- 
break on the other flank and away he would go in that 
direction, \vith no better success than before. 

As a rule, officers paid little attention to this badinage, 
as long as it was harmless, permitting the bo^'s to have 
their fun. They knew that it meant nothing, and that 
those who yelled the loudest and said the most irreverent 
things, would, on the morrow, at their command, leap 
into the very jaws of death. None knew as well as the 
o-enerals how much the efficiencv of an army was enhanced 
bv keeping the soldiers in good spirits. 

Sometimes the shafts of ridicule \vere so keenly pointed 
and fired with such unerring and persistent aim, that 
their stings became unendurable, and the goaded officers 
would charge around in a furious rage, threatening the of- 
fenders with the most awful and tremendous punishments. 
Usually the bo^'S made life a burden to such an officer to 
the end of the war, if he remained in the service so long-. 



ROUGH ON SHOULDER-STRAPS. 587 

Here and there was a "West Pointer," whose punctilious 
ideas of the respect due to epaulettes and gold-lace would 
not permit him under any circumstances to "take a joke" 
that came from the rank and file. If he chanced to be the 
beneficiary of the vocal "shivaree" (as they call it in the 
west) — and he was quite as likely as any one to be the 
target of the wild volunteers — a storm was pretty cer- 
tain to follow. That officer was fortunate who could act 
the part of wisdom, and laugh with the rest at the rude 
and noisy jests of the soldiers, as they rolled about in 
their pup tents or stumbled along through the tedious 
hours of a night march, even though their words might 
cut to the quick. The only stlre and speedy way to put 
an end to the "racket" was to pay no attention to it. If 
the men found that an officer was " bored " he was 
likely to be assailed again and again, with redoubled 
vigor. 

A ver^' common and effective method that was popular 
among the troops — probably less so among the helpless 
victims — was for a stout-lunged soldier to shout at the 
top of his voice a question touching upon some foible or 
peccadillo of an officer. Another stentorian patriot, 
perhaps at some distant point in the regiment, would 
answer by yelling out the name of the officer in a tone 
that could be heard half a mile. This colloquial exercise 
was not unlike that carried on between the "interlocutor" 
and "end-men" of a minstrel troupe. Those among 
the officers who could conceal from the boys their weak 
spots — for all were human, and many ver}' much so — were 
smarter men than the average. All these things were 
carefully treasured u[) ni the memories of the soldiers, and 
every nov/ and then, when the conditions were favorable, 
and the boys were in the right humor, there came a "snap " 
of very cold weather for those unlucky officers. 

On the night in question the soldiers of the 200th In- 
diana, after they had exhausted their rage and wit upon 



588 CATECHISMAL TORTURE. 

the pup-tent and the hapless quartermaster, took up the 
catechism, in the manner described. 

''Who stole the ham?" shouted an anxious inquirer. 

"Captain Smith!" was the answer, loud and clear. 

"Who got behind a tree at Stone River?" — from another 
voice. 

"Z/ei-tenant Brown!" 

"Who gobbled the lone w^idow's chickens?'* 

* * Capting-g-g Jones ! ' ' 

"Who drank too much applejack?" 

"Major Robinson !" 

"Who got sick at Mission Ridge?" 

"Lieutenant Johnsing!" ' 

"Who tried to run the guards and got nabbed?" 

"Colonel Williams!" 

"Who stole the black bottle from the sutler?" 

"Lieutenant Duzenberry!" 

"Who played off to ride in the ambulance?" 

"Captain Smart!" 

"Say boys, ther' won't be no fightin' tomorrow." 

"Why?" 

" 'Cause Capt'n Dodgit 's up with the ridgment." 
So it went, until the entire list had been exhausted, for 
-;here were few officers concerning whom something had 
not been put in pickle for such occasions. A few impetuous 
victims made matters infinitely worse by prancing around 
in a high state of excitement, threatening their relentless 
tormentors with sword and pistol ; but they did not shoot or 
"prod" anybody — the boys knew they wouldn't — and their 
impotent wrath expended itself in vain ; the odds against 
them were too great. The sound of the "taps," that 
always brought quiet to the camp, came like a balm to 
their wounded spirits. 

Such was the advent of the pup-tent in the 200th Indiana 
— and in hundreds of other regiments. It marked a new 
epoch in the increasingly actire campaigns of the great 



NOT SO BAD AS IT SEEMED. 589 

armies. These were now mobilized to a degree that had 
at no previous time been reached, being ahnost\vh oily freed 
from the enormous quantities of baggage that in the earlier 
years of the \var incumbered their movements with immense 
trains. Wagons were scarcely needed except for trans- 
porting supplies of food, clothing, ammunition and hospital 
stores. 

As for the soldiers, their aversion to the shelter tent 
soon disappeared. Before many months ekipsed they had 
come to regard it as an unmixed blessing. Under the 
former regime, when the army was in motion the wagons 
were often in the rear for days and weeks together, and the 
soldiers were compelled to brave the weather, wholly un- 
protected, save by such imperfect shelters as could be im- 
provised. The despised and much-reviled pup-tent proved 
to be the one thing needful. What a man carried on his 
back he was always sure of, and this was the only kind 
of transportation that he could depend uj)on. 

After the soldiers began to take more kindly to their new 
quarters, straitened though they were, they would as soon 
have thought of campaigning without their blankets as 
without their pup tents. They came to be exceedingly dex- 
terous in pitching them. A few minutes only was required, 
whenever and wherever the arm}' stopped. If no woods 
were at hand to supply the convenient forked sticks, rails 
and boards were split, or pieces of cracker boxes pressed 
into the service — anything with a small notch cut in one 
end in wdiich the ridge-pole could rest would answer the 
purpose. If other sources of supply failed the soldier could 
always fall back on his musket. Two "pards" would 
"fix ''their ba^'onets and thrust them into the ground, one 
at each end of the tent, catch the edges of the cloth be- 
tween the nipples and the hammers of the inverted guns, 
and the dwelling was ready for occupancy. In such a case 
no ridge-pole was necessary. At the signal to strike tents 



590 A GOOD THING, AFTER ALL. 

they wotild disaiDpear almost in an instant, as if the camp 
were swept by a tornado. 

Under ordinary conditions of weather they furnished 
comfortable shelter. True, a hard rain would beat through 
them, and trickle in baptismal streams over the inmates; 
a furious wind would sometimes play sad havoc with the 
fragile structures, tearing them from their fastenings and 
sending them flj'ing through the air in wild confusion. A 
visitation of this kind at night, \vith the accompaniment 
of a copious rain, was somewhat calamitous in its effects 
upon both the comfort and the tempers of those so rudely 
unhoused ; but it was only an incident in the soldier's hfe 
that passed away with the morrow's sunshine. 

One edition of the pup tent was provided with a three- 
cornered piece of cloth, which, after the tent was pitched, 
was quickly joined on with buttons and entirely closed one 
end, contributing much to the well-being of the dwellers 
within. In many of those issued to the troops this con- 
venient part was wanting, and the lack w^as supplied, as 
far as possible, b}^ a rubber blanket, or a chance piece of 
cloth picked up with this end — that is, the end of the pup- 
tent — in view. Sometimes a night raid among the mule- 
drivers would yield a very serviceable fragment ruthlesslv 
cut from a wagon-cover. 

Next to the hardtack and the "grayback," no feature 
of army life will dwell longer or more vividly in the mem- 
cries of the veterans of the war than the Pup Tent. 



CHAPTER XLIII. 

Si Enters Upon the Last Great Campaign which Ends the War. 

THE campaign of 1864 was unlike any that preceded 
it. Up to that time the grand divisions of the Union 
army had moved spasmodically, and without concert of 
action, each plunging forward with music and banners, 
and then rushing back again, as the enemy, on his shorter 
interior lines, concentrated his forces at the point assailed. 
This policy seemed likely, as shown by the experience of 
three years, to prolong the struggle indefinitely. Now 
and then a town of little or no importance to either side 
was wrested from the enemy and its capture was an- 
nounced by the newspapers in hj^sterical head -lines. When 
the people at the North read that Culpeper Court-house, 
or Corinth, or Little Rock had been taken, perhaps with- 
out anybody being hurt, they fondly believed that the 
Gibraltar of the South had fallen, the back-bone of the 
rebellion was at last broken, and nothing now remained 
to be done but to appoint a receiver to wind up the affairs 
of the so-called Southern Confederacy. So they shouted 
themselves hoarse and made congratulatory speeches, 
amidst the blare of bands, the ringing of bells, and the 
combustion of powder. But the rebel armies generally 
got away when they wanted to, and turned up at unex- 
pected times and places, as pugnacious as ever. 

At length a great light dawned upon those in authority. 
The important discovery was made that marching triumph- 
antly into decayed and deserted towns, and impressively 

5S1 



592 THEN CAME THE "TUG OF WAR." 

planting the stars and stripes on empty court-houses, 
would never end the war, so long as the military power 
of the enemy remained unbroken. By this time "the way- 
faring man though a fool" could comprehend the truth 
that the rebellion was not to be crushed by sounding 
official proclamations, nor by fervid rhetorical emanations 
from the brains of valorous "On-to-RIchmond " editors. 
It could only be accomplished by the persistent use of 
powder and lead, and an occasional prod with the bayo- 
net. Without taking issue upon the pleasing and poetic 
proposition that "the pen is mightier than the sword," it 
may confidently be asserted that for the job in question 
the musket outranked the pen as much as a resplendent 
major-general did a high private in the rear rank. 

So it was that in 1864 came the long, persistent "tug" 
of the ^var. East and west the Union forces moved simul- 
taneously, with unity of purpose and action — fighting the 
rebel armies whenever and wherever they could be found. 
There was to be no more "sparring for wind," but a 
mighty clinch and a "rough-and-tumble" for the mastery. 
The fiction of superior valor or military prowess on either 
side had been exploded. At the worst it was believed that 
the rebels could be beaten in theend, dearly-bought though 
the victory might be, by the same process that is some- 
times employed in playing at "checkers." Having secured 
a slight numerical advantage over his adversary the 
player deliberately proceeds to "man him down," giving 
a life for each one he takes, and thus vanquishes him at 
last. This is the game that was played during the last 
and bloodiest year of the war, and it succeeded. More 
men were killed and wounded by lead and iron in the des- 
perate grapple from April, 1864, to April, 1865, than 
during the previous three years. Better so, with all the 
sickening scenes of carnage, than to have had the strug- 
gle prolonged and thrice the number borne to their 
graves from a hundred hospitals and prisons during the 



NEVER GRANDER HEROISM. 593 

slowly-dragging 3'ears. The price paid was a high one, 
but the economy of the purchase cannot be questioned. 

The rank and file of the Union armies cheerful!}^ accepted 
the new order of things. In fact, the idea that this was 
the way to put down the rebellion took possession of the 
minds of the soldiers long before it reached headquarters. 
Braveh% patiently and without complaint they faced the 
"enemy's guns day after da}', through weeks and months, 
and willingly made the awful sacrifice that was demanded. 
Surely no less can be said of the men of the Confederate 
armies, in their gallant and yet hopeless struggle. The 
pages of history bear no record of grander heroism and 
fortitude than were shown by American soldiers. North 
ind South, during the last year of our civil war. 

"Looks ter me, Shorty," said Si, the first night of the 
great campaign, "the way we're startin' out this time, 's 
though we wa'n't goin' ter fool with the rebils no longer. 
\Yhen we only whip 'em once 'n a while they don't stay 
whipped wuth a continental. We've got ter jest keep 
lickin' on 'em — git 'em on the run 'n' make 'em go t'll 
they're tired. I hain't got no military' eddication, but I 
b'lieve ther' ain't no other way ter squush this rebellion. 
Ef the gin'rals had axed me I'd ha' told 'em so long ago. 
Course I don't know what the\^'re goin' ter do, but I've 
got 'n idee the\''ll keep us a-humpin' fer a while." 

"Does seem kind o' that way, "replied Shorty. "I figger 
it out 't ther's got ter be bout so much shootin' 'n' bein' 
shot ter do the business, 'n' it'll be a heap better ter keep 
peckin' away 'thout givin" 'em no chance ter rest t'll we 
wind the thing up. One o' the bo3^s was sayin' 't he seed 
a noosepaper today 't told how all the armies was gittin' 
read}' ter move, 'n' I reck'n they're goin' ter shake up the 
Johnnies purt}' liveh'. I've got the same notion 't 3'ou 
have. Si, 'n' ef I kin see through a ladder we'll have livelier 
music 'n' more on it 'n we've heerd afore." 

Being unanimous in their verdict upon the outlook for 



594. 



THEY FOUND THE ENEMY, 



tlie immediate futtire, there was no chance for argument; 
so they crawled into their dog-tent and went to sleep. 

Two hours before daylight they w^ere aroused to stand 
at arms until dawn. For months this enforced habit of 
rising at an exasperating hour ^vas continued. So far as 
the soldiers w^ere concerned, Ben Franklin's proverb was 
without force, as "early to rise" made them neither 
"healthy," "wealthy" — at thirteen dollars a month — nor 
"wise." 

The enemy was within easy reach, and there was no 

trouble in finding 
».»^v^^^-<^ ^^,-^-,^ ,^ him that day. He 

was full of fight 
and stubbornly re- 
sisted the advance. 
Then was begun 
the bloody strug- 
gle that, through 
w^eary weeks and 
months, put to the 
severest test that 
mind can conceive 
the valor and en- 
durance of the 
w^ell-tried soldiers 
of both armies. 
Skirmishing was 
incessant, and bri- 
gades, divisions and corps often met in the dreadful 
shock of battle. The whiz of bullet and scream of shell 
became so familiar to the ear that they were almost 
robbed of their terrors. So long as a soldier was not hit 
he resfarded with a stoical indifference to self the work of 
death that was constantly going on around him. The 
senses became calloused. The killing and mangling of 
fellow-beings was the every-day vocation. Men engaged 




NOT TO BE CAUGHT NAPPING. 



"WHEN GREEK MEETS GREEK." 595 

In it with no more compunction than if they were hunting 
game. The finer feehngs were seared and deadened by the 
fiery breath of war. 

Day after day the soldiers marched and dug rifle-pits and 
built long, tortuous lines of intrenchments, under the fierce 
midsummer sun — today charging the enemy in open field, 
and tomorrow by a flank movement forcing him to 
abandon his chosen position. The}' lay behind works, 
looking into the very muzzles of hostile muskets and 
cannon. At times the lines were so near together that 
there was no room for pickets. Whole brigades glared 
upon one another with sleepless e\'es, b\' da\' and by night. 
If a head or body were exposed, though but for an instant, 
on either side, a hundred rifles cracked and a hundred 
bullets sped on their errand. Every hour death reaped 
its fearful harvest. Men were buried beside the trenches 
in which they fell. Surgeons lay behind the breastworks 
to care for the wounded, who could only be borne to the 
rear under cover of the darkness. 

Officers and soldiers slept in their clothes, with swords 
and muskets in their hands. Rarely a night passed with- 
out an alarm. An exchange of shots on the picket-line 
alwa^'s awoke the soundest sleeper, and in half a minute 
he was standing in his place at the works. Often the men 
lay down in two long lines and had but to spring up to be 
in order of battle. At crack of musket and whistle of bul- 
let, ten thousand — twenty thousand — fifty thousand sol- 
diers rose as if by magic, grasping their trusty weapons. 
It was no uncommon thing for this to occur twice or 
thrice in a night. At no time, sleeping or waking, was a 
soldier where he could not seize his musket and be ready 
r'li an instant for any duty. 

Even the privates became skilled in the arts of war. The 
general movements were directed by those in command, 
but so far as the details were concerned the soldiers knew 
as well as the officers what to do and how to do it. Thev 



596 THE SHOVEL NO LONGER DESPISED. 

no longer deemed it a mark of cowardice to take advan- 
tage of anv cover that opportunity offered. On the con- 
trarj^ the man who did not do this was set down as a 
fool. Skirmishers dodged from tree to tree, now crouch- 
ing behind a stump or log for a shot and then dashing 
ahead; now creeping along a fence or wall and then taking 
the double-quick across a field or "open" — in every 
possible way shielding themselves from the fire of the 
enemj', but always pushing forward and shrinking from 
no necessary danger. 

Whenever pickets were stationed there was not a mo- 
ment of rest until a little fortification had been thrown up 
at each post that would stop musket balls. Rails, logs, 
stones, were hastily piled, and with bayonets, tin-cups 
and plates, or anything that would scratch up the ground, 
holes were dug and the dirt was used to strengthen the 
work. Back at the main line all hands were busy, eacfi 
regiment covering its front with a strong intrenchment. 
Assaults were made by the enemy with scarcely a mo- 
ment's warning, and the men toiled w^ith their guns slung 
over their shoulders. Often when the work of intrenching 
was but half done the sharp crack of muskets, the zip and 
patter of bullets and the wnld rebel yell sent the soldiers 
scampering into line to meet the onset. After repulsing 
the enemy a counter-charge was likeh^ to follow, and the 
instant a halt was ordered the men fell to and in an in- 
credibly brief time would have another long line of works, 
behind which they eagerly watched for the foe. A few 
axes, picks and shovels were carried by each regiment, and 
for hasty intrenching were invaluable. During the early 
years of the war these menial implements had been re- 
o-arded with ineffable scorn and contempt. In 1864 a 
shovel was as indispensable as a coffee-pot. Frequently, 
as the troops changed their positions, two or three heavy 
liaes of works, miles in length, were thrown up in a day. 
vv eariness and hunger were not thought of ur^til the forti- 



THE OIJESTION OF SUPPLIES. 



;97 



fving was done. Then, with their muskets in hand or 
slung upon their backs, the soldiers would quickl}' start 
their little fires for making coffee and toasting bacon. 

The supply of rations during such a campaign was 
somewhat precarious. To feed an arm\' of a hundred 
thousand men and thirty thousand animals, and keep it 
in ammunition and other things needful, required at least 
one hundred and thirty car loads, of ten tons each, per 
day.* These had to be transported a long distance over 
a single line of railroad every mile of which must be 
guarded. It was the constant effort — often successful — of 
the enem^-'s cavalry to "cut the cracker-line," by making 
wide detours around the Union army and by sudden 
dashes tearing up the railroad, burning bridges and blow- 
ing up culverts. These interruptions occasionally made it 
necessary for the soldiers to be put on half rations. 

In that wonderful army were multitudes representing 
all the learned professions and mechanical trades. Men 
carried swords and muskets who could preach a sermon, 
argue a case at law, amputate a leg or edit a news- 
paper. There were soldiers who could build a bridge, put 
up and operate a telegraph line, or make anything, from 
a watch to a locomotive. To provide for contingen- 
cies a corps of engineers ' and mechanics was organized, 
whose special duty it was to repair the ravages of the 
Confederate raiders and keep intact the slender thread of 
communication between the great army in the field and 
its remote base of supplies. So prompth' and efiiciently 
was this important service performed that when a short- 
age in the supply of hardtack and bacon told the army 
that there was another break, it was rarely more than 
two or three days till the whistle of the locomotive, as it 
went puffing up to the front, set the soldiers to yelling like 
lunatics. 

• Sherman's Memoirs, Vol. II. p. 11. 



'598 NO MORE ''ALL QUIET " SEASONS. 

Tliis was the way the soldiers lived and marched and 
fought during that bloody year, that illledso man^'^ graves, 
but conquered the rebellion. It was not, as before, an oc- 
casional battle, \vith long intervals of "all quiet on the 
Potomac,''' the Tennessee and the Mississippi — when the 
soldiers spent their time in lying idly under the trees or 
building forts and breastworks far in the rear — when if 
the hostile armies moved at all it was in the effort to 
keep out of each other's way and avoid a collision. It was 
a continuous fight, month after month. No man, on open- 
ing his eyes in the morning, was secure in the belief that 
before night he would not be dead and buried, or a subject 
for the knife and saw of the surgeon. Not an hour — a mo- 
ment — of life was assured. The impressive truth that "In 
the midst of life we are in death " has no such meaning to 
those dwelling under peaceful skies as it had to the brave, 
patient thousands who spent the long days and nights on 
i:he outposts and in the trenches, amidst blazing muskets 
and belching cannon. 

It was upon this life that Si entered that pleasant May 
morning. Company Q of the 200th Indiana was on the 
skirmish-line and had not advanced far till it found enough 
in front to engage its undivided attention. The rebel 
pickets, as if they realized the "aggressive spirit that was 
henceforth to animate the opposing army and were deter- 
mined to follow suit, stubbornly contested the advance 
and yielded nothing except on compulsion. But the day 
had gone by when a spasmodic fusillade on the skirmish- 
line would cause the Union army to halt, establish and for- 
tify its position, and wait to be attacked. "Go right for 
'em, boys ! " was the word passed along the line, and they 
went. 

"This is business!" said Si to Shorty, as they darted 
from one tree to another, stopping for a moment Lo fire 
Avhenever they could see a "butternut " to shoot at. " We 



"GOING FOR 'em. 



599 



ain't goin' ter have no more nonsense with them fellers. 
We're jest goin' in ter win now." 

Behind the skirmishers marched the compact battalions, 
with steady step and the touch of elbows that always 
gave the soldier confidence. Each man knew that hecould 
trust his comrades, upon the right and upon the left. They 
had long marched and fought side by side. The leaders of 
that army needed no assurance that those well-seasoned 
regiments and brigades and divisions would be equal to 









ON THE SKIRMISH LINE. 



every demand that might be made upon them. It took 
three years to create such an army, but when that veteran 
host moved forward, with perfect mutual confidence be- 
tween the soldiers and their commanders, it was invincible. 

During its march the army reached a river, broad and 
deep. All bridges over it had been destroyed by the re- 
treating enemy. Two years earlier the army would have 
halted for a week while the means for crossing were being 
provided. Now it was not so. 

"How we goin' ter git any furder?" exclaims Si, as he 



600 "PONTONIERS TO THE FRONT ! '* 

and Shorty arrive at the bank and drop behind a log to 
escape the bullets that come singing over. "I'm 'feard we 
wouldn't make much headway swimmin' 'th all these 
traps on. Looks 's though we'd have ter knock off fer 
toda3\" 

"Wait a little while 'n' see," replies Shorty. "There's 
more 'n one way ter skin a cat." 

One of the generals, accompanied by a staff officer or 
two, rides up. When within range of the hostile muskets 
he dismounts and gliding from one tree to another ad- 
vances to the stream. 

" The gin'rals dodges same 'swe do, don't they, Short}^? " 
says Si. 

"Course they does. They can't help it no more 'n you 
'n' me kin. It's the sensiblest thing a feller kin do some- 
times.' 

A single glance tells the officer what is to be done, and 
he scurries back to the rear. When it is necessary he \vill 
face without flinching a sheet of flame, though he fall be- 
fore it, but now he does well to avoid the flying bullets. 
"Pontoniers to the front ! " 

Away gallops one of the staff to bring up the train of 
v^agons bearing the pontons — or pontoons as they were 
universally called. The "pongtong" of the Frenchman 
was not suited to the vocal organs of the American soldier. 
The enemy on the farther bank shows his teeth and is 
making ominous preparations to dispute the passage of 
the river. On this side batteries are ordered into position 
to cover the laying of the bridge. A brigade is advanced 
to the river, where the men quickh^ throw up a barricade 
of logs, rails and earth. There is brisk firing from both 
sides. Neither force can advance upon the other, and it is 
simply a question which has the greater "nerve" and 
steadiness to endure the fire of its adversary. 

Meantime a thousand men with axes are clearing a road 
to the point chosen as the most favorable for the bridge. 



52UICK, SHARP WORK. 601 

With a celerity little less than marvelous they fell trees, 
roll away logs, and open a pathway. Here comes the 
pontoon train, and the soldiers set up a mighty shout 
as the reeking mules plunge forward under stinging lash 
and maddening yell. With them come the pontoniers, at 
a double-quick, responding lustily to the vociferous greet- 
ings of their comrades. Here and there a mule falls, struck 
by a bullet that comes flying over, but ready knives slash 
the harness and cut him loose, and the rest dash furiously 
on. 

Now batteries open and muskets blaze along both the 
river banks. The pontoniers stack arms and strip off their 
accouterments that they may v^ork without incumbrance. 
They cannot stop to use their muskets and must go through 
the ordeal of being under fire without being able to return 
it. There is no more trying position in which soldiers can 
be placed. They must work rapidly, for every moment 
brings sacrifice of life and limb. The covering force re- 
doubles its fire as the pontoniers spring to the pontoons 
and lift them from the wheels. The boats — frames of wood 
covered with heavy oiled canvas — are borne to the brink 
of the stream. One by one they are launched and floated 
to their positions. The connecting timbers are speedily 
put in — for every stick has been fitted to its place. A hun- 
dred men complete the work, as each successive boat is 
secured, by laying the planking of the roadwa}^, soon to 
resound with the tread of those eager battalions. Long 
ropes, stretched diagonally to the shore above, prevent the 
bridge from being carried down by the current. 

All this time cannon are hurling shot, shell and canister, 
and the air seems filled with hissing bullets. Much of the 
enemy's fire is directed at the pontoniers. Man}' of these 
are stricken down and lie helpless in the boats, or fall into 
the water and are borne away by the tide. Some are 
dead when they fall; others, disabled by cruel wounds, 
perish in the stream. But war and death are inseparable. 



>02 



A RUSH FOR THE OTHER SIDE. 



The work must not stop for an instant, and for every 
brave pontonier that falls a score of willing volunteers are 
ready to seize the plank or the oar that has dropj)ed from 
his grasp. 

Imagination cannot picture a scene of wilder uproar and 
confusion. The noise of artillery and musketry is inces- 
sant, to which are added the yells of the excited men, for it 
is not easy to "keep cool" with such surroundings. Offi- 
cers shout their orders in vain; no words can be heard in 
the awful din. But it matters little, for those trained sol- 




LAYING A PONTOON BRIDGE UNDER FIRE. 

diers not only know what to do but they have the mag- 
nificent heroism to do it, and amidst the roar and 
crash, the wild shout and the scream of pain, the work 
goes steadily and surely on. 

Down on the fast-lengthening bridge are Si and Shorty, 
working with might and main, unmindful of the bullets 
that patter around them and bury themselves in the 
planks they carry. They are among those who so 
/promptly volunteered to fill the places made vacant, and 
none are more active and efficient than the}'. It is a new 



ALWAYS FORWARD. 603 

Sphere of labor and a new test of courage, but there is not 
a thought of quaihng. 

Now the bridge stretches almost to the farther shore, 
and the water is but hip deep. 

"Fall in 200th Indiana! Forward — Double-quick — 
March!" 

The brave colonel dashes ahead and the men follow with 
a yell. Their swift feet clatter upon the planks and the 
floating bridge sways and throbs under their tread. Fast 
and furious is the fire of the Union batteries to cover the 
perilous passage. Unmindful of the bullets that are thin- 
ning the ranks the men push on, leap into the water and 
scramble up the bank. No human power can stay their 
progress. They throw themselves upon the enemy and 
break his line. Another regiment has followed, and 
another. To right and left they charge the hostile force, 
which yields before the onslaught and flees in disma3% 
The crossing is secured. The bridge is quickly finished, 
and for hours it quivers beneath the marching feet of end- 
less brigades and divisions, and the. rumbling wheels of 
artillery and wagons freighted with material to supj^lj' all 
the enginery' of war. 

Thus the barrier was passed, and the e^'cs of the enemy 
were opened to the spirit that animated and nerved the 
Union army during that final struggle — a spirit that found 
true expression in those historic words of the great Cap- 
tain, A^^hich were an inspiration to the soldiers and to the 
patient, praying millions at home : "I propose to fight it 
out on this line if it takes all summer." 

Da}^ after day the campaign went on. Week after week 
the soldiers marched with their faces to the foe, or stood 
in the trenches with loaded muskets. Behind the fortified 
lines they dug "gopher-holes" in which thc}^ slept, to 
avoid the plunging shot from the enemy's cannon. Time 
and again they flanked him out of his chosen positions in 
the mountain fastnesses, and forced him across deep and 



C04 " ATTENTION i ' 

rapid rivers. When a halted column was called to " atten- 
tion" the men sprang to their places, singing to the 
strains of the bugle: ^j, 

Every hour the p ^ ^^ 
work of death was 
going on at some 

point in the long and E= ^ ^-^ zj^gz^EE^^ — ^ i3^33 

Sinuous line. Kail-^ — -" — -~^ ■ 




I know you are ti-red but still you must go; 



-^-—m^S 



Down to At-lan - ta to see the big show. 
"attention! " 



way trains Avhich 
brought supplies for 
the army returned freighted with the dead and the dying, 
and with prisoners taken from the enemy. On and still 
on pressed the resolute army ; patiently and cheer- 
fully the soldiers discharged every duty and faced every 
danger. 

The enemy, maddened and desperate, vainly sought to 
stay the advance of the victorious legions. Brigades and 
divisions defiantly hurled themselves against the Union 
intrenchments, and pounced with the utmost fury upon 
marching columns. The long track of the armies was 
one great bc.ttle-field. Everywhere the trees were scarred 
and riven by the missiles from musket and cannon, and 
the reddened earth became a place of burial for brave men. 



CHAPTER XLIV. 

An Unexpected Calamity Befalls Corporal Klegg and his 

Comrade. 

TT was a hot midsummer day. The 200th Indiana wag 

1^ in the front line and Company Q was on picket. Si 

and Shorty lay in a rifle-pit which they had dug where 

mey were stationed, the night before. Under cover of the 



BEHIND FORT KLEGG. 605 

darkness thej had strongly intrenched themselves, crown- 
ing the work with a small "head-log." It took them till 
midnight to finish it, but they were amply repaid for their 
labor in knowing that they were well fixed for the next 
day, provided the army did not advance. With the confi- 
dence inspired by their repeating rifles, they knew that no 
mere skirmish-line of the enemy could drive them from 
their position. Shorty named it "Fort Klegg.'' During 
the rest of the night they kept vigil, wath eyes and ears, 
their trusty rifles in hand for instant use. Now and then 
one of them slept for a few minutes, but was quick to 
spring at the lightest touch of his watchful comrade. In 
all that long line of videttes, miles in extent, no eves were 
more keenly alert than those which peered over the para- 
pet of Fort Klegg. 

Daylight came, and the crickets chirruped in the grass 
and the birds twittered and sang in the trees. The thirsty 
rays of the morning sun drank up the dew that sparkled 
for a moment and then was gone. The muskets along the 
hostile lines were silent. The discordant sounds of war 
were hushed in the strange, oppressive quiet that often 
preceded the bursting storm. The army did not move, and 
the pickets were cautioned to the utmost watchfulness. 
It was deemed probable that the enemy would attack, for 
his position was so menaced that he must either fight or 
abandon it. 

Si and Shorty, in turn, ate their breakfast of hardtack 
and raw bacon, washing it down with the tasteless water 
that had been in their canteens since the previous day ; for 
no fires could be lighted on the outposts. An hour passed 
—and another— and another. Still they kept their e\'es to 
the front, watching for the first sign of the expected at- 
tack. The sun climbed toward the zenith and beat down 
with scorching fierceness. 

•*I b'lie\e I'm beginnin'terfr^^ !"said Si, as he layswelter 
ing in the hot, dry air, with the perspiration flowing in 



606 



SIGHTING THE ENEMY. 



rivulets from every part of his body. " I kin jest hear the 
grease a-sizzlin' out o' me. I reck'n it's a good thing fer 
me 't I ain't so fat 's I was when I 'Hsted er I'd melt 'n'run 
off in a stream. Purty hot, ain't it ? " 

"Ye're mighty right ! "replied Shorty. "Ef I'manygood 
at guessin' we'll have it a diff 'runt kind o' hot 'fore night. 
I'll bet the Johnnies 'sup to suthin 'n' 'tain't no tomfoolery, 
nuther, er the\' wouldn't be so quiet 's they've been this 
mornin'." 

"Thar they come, now. Shorty I" suddenly exclaims Si, 

as he thrusts the muz- 



zle of his rifle through 

the crevice below the 

^g head-log, draws up the 

hammer, and places his 

finger on the trigger. 

"Look at the raskils 

pilin' over that stun 

wall 'n' leggin' it this 

way. Seems 's if they 

was comin' mighty 

thick. Let's hold on 

t'll they git a leetle 

furder 'n' then we'll 

pepper 'em. Our guns 

's got sixteen shots 

FORT KLEGG. apiccc, 'n' v^re'll make 

'em think we're a hull rijiment. Ain't I glad we bought 

these 'ere Henr^^s ! They're jest the boss guns." 

Si chatters aw^ay, scarcely knownng what he says. The 
rebels are half a mile distant, at the edge of a large field. 
With their muskets at a "trail" they take the double- 
quick and make their w^ay rapidly toward the Union 
pickets. Behind the heavy line of skirmishers come the 
solid battalions massed for a furious assault. 

"We don't want ter stay here too long," suggests 




THE CHARGE OF THE GRAYCOATS, 607 

Shorty, "'cause ye know we can't fight the hull rebel 
army; 'n' 'sides that our fellers back 't the works can't 
open on 'em — leastways they won't want ter — till arter 
we gits back." 

Short}'- is the cooler of the two, and takes in the whole 
situation. Si only thinks of making the most of his op- 
portunity — for rarely had so good a one been offered him — 
to use his repeating rifle to advantage. 

"That's all right, Shorty; we'll have lots o' time ter git 
back arter we've guv 'em our sixteen pills apiece. They 
look kinder sick 'n' I 'low our medis'n' '11 do 'em good- 
They're comin' so thick 't we can't miss 'em 'n' we'll jest 
have a picnic!" 

"You're my commandin' ossifer, Si, 'n' I'm goin' ter stay 
t'll you says the word. But we'll hafter git up 'n' dust 
when we do start.'' 

On and on come the soldiers in gray. Those in the ad- 
vance are half-way across the intervening space, and are 
fast nearing the chain of rifle-pits. With eyes almost 
bursting from their sockets. Si watches their approach. 
His heart throbs wildly ; the hot blood leaps through his 
veins ; his cheek is aflame with the fervid glow of excite- 
ment. The impatient pickets on the right and left begin 
the fire. 

"Now sock it to 'em, Shorty," exclaims Si, as he glances 
quickly along the barrel of his rifle and a bullet speed? 
from Fort Klegg. 

As they encounter the fire from the outposts the rebels, 
not pausing to use their muskets, bend their heads to 
the storm, quicken their steps, and break forth in a mad 
yell. 

The hands of Si and Shorty fly nimbly as they work 
their repeaters to their utmost capacity. Fast speed 
the deadly missiles. Every one seems to take effect in 
that charging mass, at rapidly shortening range. Now 



608 "the PHILISTINES BE UPON THEE ! " 

the rebels are so near that Si can see the very white of 
their eyes. 

"Plug it into 'em!" he shouts. "WeVe droppin' 'em 
right 'n' left." And he works with redoubled ardor till 
the last shot in his magazine has been fired. "Now. 
Shorty, let's climb out o' this!'' 

Si has been too brave, and has permitted his zeal to out- 
run his judgment. He has thought of nothing but doing 
the greatest possible execution, and does not know that 
on the right and left the pickets wisely fell back to the 
main line after the first volley into the face of the foe. The 
rapid and persistent fire from Fort Klegg has checked 
somewhat the advance in its immediate front, but on both 
flanks the rebels have swept on and are swarming in the 
rear of the little fortification that has been so gallantly 
defended. 

As Si and Shorty turn to retreat they are amazed 
to find themselves covered by half a dozen muskets, 
with loud demands for immediate and unconditional sur- 
render. At the same instant men in gray, with gleam- 
ing bayonets, storm the now silent work, leap over the 
head-log, and close in upon the hapless garrison. 

Breathless and dumfounded, Si is for the instant speech- 
less. It is one of those critical moments ^vhich admit of 
no delay. Something must be said or done instantly or it 
will be the last of Corporal Klegg and his faithful pard. 
Shorty comprehends the emergency, and sees at a glance 
that there is but one thing that the bravest man can do 
under such circumstances. Rethrows up his hand in token 
of surrender, and he and Si are in the hands of the Philis- 
tines. 

Si had not yet recovered his senses. The scenes had been 
shifted so suddenly that he was bewildered. He could not 
comprehend that he \vas really a prisoner. Never in all his 
service as a soldier had the thought of surrender once en- 
tered his mind 



SI AT LENGTH CAPITULATES. 



609 



Half a dozen Confederates sprang forward, each of them 
eager to secure such a jDriire as a Henry rifle. 

''You jest leggo that ar gun, will ye! '' said Si with em- 
phasis, as one of them seized his weapon and tried to wrest 
it from his grasp, "/hain't s'rendercd ^'•et, 'n' ef ye'll jest 
gimme two minutes ter load up my rifle I'll fight the hull 
pn ye! " 

Si's face fairh^ blazed in the intensity of his indignation 
and wrath. Prudence ^ C 
was not one of his car- ^ 

dinal virtues, and at 
that instant, if he could 
have refilled his maga- 
zine with cartridges he 
would have defied a 
regiment of grajxoats. 

" Steady, thar, my 
boy ! " exclaimed Shor- 1| 
ty. " Yecan't help yer- ** 
self 'n' ye've got ter 
cave." 

" I'll bring him to 
Limerick !'' said a burly 
Confederate, as he 
placed the muzzle of his 
musket to Si's head. 
"Now drap that thar gun 'n' hold up yer hands right 
quick, you Yank, er ye'll be a dead man 'n three 
seconds! " 

"Don't shoot, Johnny," pleaded Shorty. "Let up on 
him 'n' I'll bring him 'round. Ye see he ain't nothin' but 
a boy, but he's chuck fullo' sand. He's got steam uppurty 
high, but he'll git blowed off d'reckly 'n' then he'll cool 
down. 'Twon't do ye no good ter kill him." 

By this time Si had yielded to the inevitable. Looking 
into the muzzle of that loaded musket, he wisely detsr- 




COMPELLED TO SURRENDER. 



610 A COSTLY VICTORY. 

mined not to pursue the argument. The other fellow ' ' had 
the drop on him," and he o-ave a signal of capitulation. 
His feelings overcame him as he saw his beloved rifle, that 
had served him so well, pass into the hands of an enemy, 
and tears of sorrow and vexation streamed down his 
face. 

"Git right out o' this. Yanks!" said one of the rebels, 
who had been directed to march the prisoners to the rear. 
"Ye hain't got no time ter stan' here snivelin'. Now 
travel!" 

Under the persuasive influence of a glistening bayonet 
Si and Shorty moved off" in the direction indicated. 

" Looks 's though it had cost 'em suthin ter capcher you 
'n' me!" said Shorty to his comrade in an undertone, 
pointing to a dozen or fifteen of the enemy who were lying 
dead or wounded wnthin the range of Fort Klegg. It was 
evident that most of their shots had taken effect. 

"I'd ruther I hadn't seen 'em," said Si, " 'cause it makes 
me feel bad, arter all, ter know I've killed any on 'em, even 
ef they is rebels. Ye know they're all human bein's 'n' I 
can't git it outen my head 't it's jest 'bout the size o' mur- 
der. Mostly when we're in a big fight, 'n' all on 'em 's 
bangin' away, a feller don't know whether he hits anybody 
er not ; but ther' ain't no chance ter feel that way 'bout 
this 'ere scrimmage we had. Mebbe you killed 'em all, 
Shorty." 

"I don't keer 'f 3^ou think so. Si. I ain't so squeamish 
's you be, 'n' I kin stan' it. Thefaster they 's killed off the 
quicker it'll wind up the job." 

'I s'pose ther' ain't no denyin' that, Short}^ but — I 
don't reck'n God meant ter have me fer a soljer, er he 'd 
ha' made me diff'runt." 

"I don't see how he could ha' done a better job ef he'd 
made ye to order! " replied Shorty. 

They walked over the field at a moderate pace. The 
"Johnny" appeared to be satisfied with his detail to march 



THE SOLDIERS WERE HUMAN. Gil 

them back, and was seemingly in no hurry to finish the 
duty. Possibly he indulged the hope that the fight would 
be over before he should rejoin his regiment. Little won- 
der if he did. 

Generally speaking, there was no feeling of personal 
enmity between the soldiers of the Union and Confederate 
armies. They learned thoroughly to respect one another 
for their courage and fighting qualities, and war did not 
make them savages or wild beasts. The instincts of hu- 
manity may have been deadened in some cases, but in 
others they were made more keen by the sight of human 
suffering, and rarely, indeed, did the}' wholly disappear. 
Even in the fiercest heat of battle, it was not often that 
soldiers on either side indulged in wanton killing. No 
doubt life was sometimes taken in a way that was simply 
atrocious murder ; for it would be strange if among 
two or three millions of men, leading a life that, at its 
best, had a tendency to arouse the basest passions, there 
were not some to whom the quality of mercy was un- 
known. Ever}^ 3^ear hundreds of crimes, equally revolting, 
are committed by men whose breasts are not inflamed by 
the fires of war. As a rule, when a man was wounded or 
a prisoner he was no longer an enemy. The last cracker 
and the last drop in the canteen would be freely shared 
with a suffering foeman. It will be understood that these 
observations are intended to apply to the soldiers in the 
field, who marched and fought, giving and taking hard 
blows. Such w^ere the characteristics of these men, on 
both sides, with few exceptions. 

"You-unsfout mighty well 'hind that thar breastwork 
o' yourn,"" said the guard, by way of scraping up an ac- 
quaintance with his prisoners. 

"We madeit 's warm fer ye 's wecould,'' replied Si. His 
temperature had fallen several degrees, and his tongue was 
getting into its normal condition. 

•' When we was chargin' up thar ye made us b'lieve thar 



612 AN OFFER TO NEGOTIATE. 

was a hull comp'iiy, with them dog-goned guns o' j'ourn, 
't ye loads up on Sunday 'n' then shoots 'em all the week. 
What sort o' killin' machines be they, anyway ? I've heern 
tell on 'em but I never seen one alore . ' ' 

"Pard," said Si, "I didn't git that rifle f*m the guvy- 
ment. She belongs ter me, 'cause I bought her 'th my own 
money 't I arned a-hoofin' it 'n' fightin' rebs. Ef she was 
Uncle Sam's property it 'd be all right fer 3'e ter hang on 
to her, but bein' 'tain't ye ought ter give her back." 

The guard was carrying the two Henry rifles on his 
shoulder. The Confederates did not know how to use 
them, nor would they be of any service without a supply 
of ammunition made especially for them. The rebel soldier 
did not coincide with Si's views on the question of owner- 
ship. He held to the idea, almost universally prevalent in 
both armies, that under any and all circumstances, with- 
out regard to the claims of friend or foe, anything belonged 
to whoever had it. Possession was more than *'nine 
points in law " — it was the law itself. 

"I 'low ter have one o' them guns, myself," said the 
guard. "When we git back a leetle furder I'll ax ye to 
shell out whatcatridges ye got, 'n' then yell have ter show 
me how the old thing works." 

This put a thought into Si's head, and he nudged Shorty 
suggestively with his elbow as he said : 

"I'll tell ye what I'll do, Johnny, 'n' less see 'f we can't 
make a barg'in. I'll give ye my repeater 'n' all the cat- 
ridges both on us 's got, 'n' show ye how ter shoot 'em, 
ef 3'e'll shet yer eyes fer jest two minutes. I'll do 's much 
sometime fer you." 

" Ye'd like ter git away, wouldn't ye? I'd git myself in 
a purty pickle. I'd hate ter do it, but ef ye try any 
monkey-shines 'th me I'll put a bullet through ye. I reck'n 
I've got a tollable sure thing on this 'ere gun 'n' yer am'ni- 
tion." 

Shorty smiled at his comrade's offer to negotiate for 



FAILURE OF THE ASSAULT. 613 

freedom. Although he had given no hint to Si he had sev- 
eral times carefully swept the field with his eye, and calcu- 
lated the possibilities of escape. He was ready to take any 
hazard, and knew well enough that he could depend upon 
Si. But the stragglers and army followers were too 
numerous in all directions to allow the slightest hope of 
success. The impatient captives could only bide their 
time, trusting that an opportunity might be offered. 

But no opening was presented, and Si and Shorty were 
delivered into the custody of an officer whose duty it was 
to receive prisoners, and who had at command an ample 
force to guard them securely. Before leaving them their 
escort relieved Si and Shorty of the ammunition for their 
rifles, and required them, at the point of the bayonet, to 
instruct him in the use of the weapons. Si groaned in 
spirit at the thought of their guns being aimed, perhaps, 
at his own comrades of the 200th Indiana. 

All this time had been borne to their ears the roar of 
battle. The rapid boom of artillery and the sharp, rolling 
Yorie3^s of musketry told of hard fighting. The rebel 
wounded streamed to the rear or w^ere borne back upon 
stretchers. Both Si and Short\' were eager to know the 
result. 

"How's it goin' ?'' Si asked of a Confederate soldier who 
came limping back with a bullet hole through his leg. 

" Bully fer our side!" was the reply. "WeVe only been 
fallin' back ter draw ye on, 'n' you-all 's goin' ter git the 
srosh-durnedest lickin' todav ve ever heern tell on." 

Si ventured to remark that he didn't believe it. A few 
minutes later there was abundant evidence that his faith 
in the 200th Indiana and the other regiments guarding 
the point assailed was well grounded. Stragglers in an 
advanced stage of demoralization were seen emerging 
from the woods and making their way across the field at 
the highest attainable speed. Thicker and faster they 
came, and soon a disordered swarm of Confederate troops 



614 A TIME TO KEEP STILL. 

was struggling to the rear. The assault had failed. 
The conflict was short, sharp and decisive. The air re- 
sounded with the mad yells and curses of the defeated sol- 
diers, while in the distance could be heard the triumphant 
shouts of the "Yankees," as thev pressed closely upon the 
heels of the fleeing foe. 

"Jest look at the Johnnies, Shorty," said Si, as he and 
his comrade stood, excited and breathless, watching the 
tide of fugitives as it swept toward them. " List'n at our 
fellers a-yellin'! I knowed they'd lick the raskils. Can't 
ye hear the boys o' Comp'ny Q hollerin' ? Don't I wish 't 
I was thar 'th my rifle ? Who-o-o-o-p !" 

Si started to yell, but was checked by Shorty. 

"Better load down yer safety-valve, Si, 'n' not be 
shootin' oft' yer mouth too much. These rebils '11 come 
back purty mad 'cause they didn't git thar, 'n' ef ye go ter 
yellin' 'n' prancin' 'round, like as not one on 'em '11 be mean 
'nough to punch ye with his bay 'net. I feel like hollerin' 
myself, but thar is times when the best thing a feller kin 
do is ter hold in, 'n' this 's one on 'em." 

Around them everything was in the wiliest confusion. 
Other troops were being hurried up to cover the retreat of 
the regiments that had melted into a disordered mass, for 
the moment uncontrolled and uncontrollable. Staff offi- 
cers and orderlies dashed madly about with orders for the 
emergency. The little squad of prisoners — for there were 
others besides Si and Shorty — seemed to be forgotten. 

"Shorty," said his comrade in a low voice, "wouldn't 
ther' be a livin' chance fer us ter git out o' this. The 
Johnnies 'pears ter have 'bout 's much business on hand 's 
the}'- kin 'tend to, 'thout botherin' theV heads 'th us. Ef 
ye w^ant ter try it I'm ready." 

"I've been thinkin' 'bout it. Si, 'n' I'm keepin' my eye 
skinned fer an openin'. You leave it ter me, 'n' when I 
poke ye 'n the ribs you foller me 's tight 's ever ye kin, 'n' 
we'll break fer the timber. I reck'n they'll send a few bul« 



SHORTY GETS A RAP. 



615 



lets chasin' arter us, but I'd ruther take the chances o' git- 
tin hit than ter be lugged off ter one b' them prisons we've 
heern so much 'bout. Now watch out !" 

More wild grew the tumult around them as the receding 
wave of battle tossed about the debris of the shattered 
column. Nearer and nearer came the shouts of the Union 
soldiers, rapidly advancing in a determined counter-charge. 
The disorganized Confederates rushed franticalU^ about, 
each bent on seeking his own safet}^, while the officers vainly 
strove to rally and re- 
form their broken bat- "• {''^'^Mii^^mW^'iiitiik, 
talions. It was one of 
those panics that at 
times demoralized -the 
bravest men. 

" Now ! " whispered ! 
Short}^ as he touched 
Si with his hand, and 
they darted away 
through the hurry- 
ing throng of men 
in gray. It \vas a 
desperate chance, but 
Shorty hoped that 
they might make their 
w^ay through the rush 
and whirl and reach 
the Union lines. 

"Stop them Yanks!" shouted the guards from whom 
they had escaped. 

An instant later Shorty was felled to the ground by a 
blow upon the head from the butt of a musket. Si stopped 
to look after his comrade, and thej^ were at once over- 
powered. Shorty was stunned for a moment, but not 
seriously hurt. He was half dragged along, and he and Si 
were again in the custody of the guards. 




A FRUITLESS DASH. 



616 PRISONERS TO THE REAR. 

"What are these Yanks doing here?" shouted an officer 
who came galloping up. "Why don't you take 'em to the 
rear. Be lively about it ! The\''re all we've got to show 
for this day's work, and we can't afford to lose 'em !" 

Away they went, urged to the double-quick by the bay- 
onets of the guards behind them. On came the solid lines 
of a fresh Confederate division that had been ordered to 
the breach, marching with brave and confident step. It 
checked the advance of the Union troops, and served as a 
wall, behind which the fragments of the regiments that 
had been torn and broken by the fruitless assault were 
rallied around their colors, and a semblance of order was 
restored. 

In such a campaign, with its dally recurring attacks and 
flank movements, prisoners were not long kept at the 
front of either army. They were an incumbrance to active 
movements, and there was liability of escape or recapture. 
For these reasons they were hurried to the rear. 

Nightfall found Si and Shorty and their companions in 
captivity miles away from the place where they had fallen 
into the hands of the enemy. Shorty was not disabled by 
the blow he had received, though there was a lump on his 
head as large as a door-knob. 

When they went into bivouac for the night Si naturally 
began to inquire about rations. Nothing remained in his 
haversack except a few broken bits of hardtack. He had 
painful misgivings on this score, for he had heard that the 
Southern Confederacy did not provide a sumptuous bill of 
fare for its prisoners of war ; and that in quantity it was 
not up to the demands of the average human stomach. 

Si waited a reasonable time, with as much patience as 
he could command, and then, there being no visible signs 
of a banquet, he concluded to put out a feeler. 

"Say, pard," he said to one of the guards, "how long 
'fore supper 's goin' ter be ready? I'm gittin' mighty 
nungrv." 



THE SUPPER QUESTION. 617 

"I'll take yer order. What'U ye have — ej^ester stew, 
• oast beef, roast turkey, spring lamb 'n' peas, er pork 'n' 
apple-sass — anything you-all want; we keeps a regular 
hotel here," and the guard laughed heartily at his tan- 
talizing humor. 

"I guess ye're jokin', Johnny," replied Si, "but I ain't a 
bit pertickler, only so it's suthin t' eat 'n' plenty on it." 

"Wall I kin tell ye, Yank, 't ye won't git nothin' t'night. 
We hain't got no more 'n jest 'nough ter go 'round fer w^e- 
uns, 'n' desp'rut poor stuff 't that. You-all gits right 
smart better grub 'n we does, 'n' I 'low ye'll have tercome 
down a peg ertwo 'n yereatin' fer a bit. Got any coffee?" 

"I'm purty nigh busted on coffee. Ef I'd knowed I was 
goin' ter be snatched bald-headed I'd ha' laid in a s'ply. 
I hain't got more 'n 'nuff fer a couple o' drawin's. 
'Twon't last no longer 'n termorrer." 

"I'm 'feard 'twon't last ye that long, pard, 'cause 1 
w-ant it right now, powerful bad. It's so long sence I had 
a swig o' coffee 't I've fergot what 't tastes like." 

" Wha-a-a-t! "said Si, "ye ain't goin' fer to take that, ar' 
ye?" 

"That's 'bout the bigness on it. You heerdwhat I said, 
'n' I'll trouble ye to fork it over." 

Si's anger rose at the thought of such an indignity. He 
cast an appealing look at Shorty, as if to ask what he 
had better do about it. 

"Let 'em have it, Si," said his comrade. "You 'n' me 
made a good squar' fight today, but we got everlastin'ly 
whipped 'n' ther' ain't no way but ter take the consekences. 
They've got yQ foul, pard, 'n' ye can't help 3'crself." 

It went against the grain with Si to give up his coffee, 
but the gentle, suggestive prod of a bayonet quickened his 
movements, and he surrendered to the Confederate therasf 
?n vv^hich it was tied. A similar requisition was made on 
r^horty, which was honored without a murmur 

"Id like ter kick, too," he said to Si, "but 'tain't nousf. 



(>18 COFFEE — FOR THE JOHNNIES. 

It'll only make things wuss, 'n' I'm goin' ter grin 'n' ^'ar 

it:' 

He found an opportunity to whisper in Si s ear that he 
was going to watch very sharp for a chance to get away. 
"Some o' the boys what gits capchered does make the 
riffle," he said, " 'n' ef they kin we kin." 

The thought of escape was uppermost in Si's mind, and 
served to assuage the grief and chagrin he felt at being a 
prisoner. The startling and rapid events of the day had 
left him little time for reflection upon the fate that had be- 
fallen him, but he had determined to make the best of it, 
and was cheered by the belief that he and Shorty would 
contrive some way to regain their liberty. They had tried 
once and failed but this only made him the more eager 
for another effort. 

" Hello, Johnny," he said, as he saw the despoiler of his 
haversack making a kettle of coffee at a fire near by. 
"would 't be any more 'n fa'r ter give me a few swallers 
o' that coffee?" 

'-Ye kin have all 't 's left arter we-uns gits filled up. Ye 
hadn't better calkilate on gittin' much, fer we don't git 
sich a chance 's this only purty durned seldom. You-uns 
has dead loads o' coffee, 'n' 'twon't hurt ye ter go 'thout 
fer a while. We hain't had nothin' fer a year but chickery 
'n' baked peas 'n' sich." 

Si and Shorty turned their haversacks inside out and 
devoured the last crumb they contained. The prospect 
before them was such as to fill their minds with con- 
sternation. This feeling was intensified when, after the 
guards had drained the coffee-kettle, one of them came up 
to Si and said, with an imperious air: 

"You Yank, come up out o' them shoes !" 

"What's that ye say?" 

"I 'lowed I was talkin' plain 'nough fer ye ter under- 
stand. I want ye ter take off them shoes !" 

"What fer? I don't feel like turnin' in yet." 



A YTCTTM OF THE SPOILEP. 619 

"'Cause I want 'em!" said the Confederate, with em- 
phasis. 

"Now, pard, ye oughtn't ter rob a feller that way jest 
'cause ve o-ot the whio-row on 'im. I wouldn't do that 
way to you ef the boot was on t'other leg. I only jest 
drawed them gunboats a few daj^s ago, 'n' I can't git 
long 'thout 'em, nohow.'' 

"I seen they was purty nigh new, 'n' that's why I want 
'em. I reck'n they're 'bout my size. I'm onW goin' ter 
trade with ye. I'll give ve mine fer 'em, 'n' ye know a even 
Exchange ain't no robbery. Ther' ain't nothin' mean 
'bout me." 

"But yourn ain't — " 

"We ain't gwine ter have no argyment. Thar ain't 
aothin' ter be said on your side. I want them shoes 'n' 
Vm goin' ter have 'em. 'n' that settles it. I know mine 
ain't quite 's good 's yourn, but you kin w'ar 'em jest 's 
Veil 's I kin. Now shuck them hoofs, 'n' ye don't wan't 
'ier be all night doin' it, nuther." 

The impatient voice of the guard and his menacing pos- 
ture, left no room for doubt that the debate was closed. 
The motion to exchange was carried, for although it was 
1 tie as between Si and "Johnny," the latter's loaded 
inusket and fixed bayonet had the casting vote, and 
inother victory was scored for the Southern Confederacy. 

While Si was unt^nng his shoes some things came into 
his mind that he would have liked to say, but on the whole 
ae thought he wouldn't. 

"Them socks o' yourn 's purty fa'r," said the rebel, 
''better skin 'em off while ye're 'bout it. I'll have ter 
jorry them, 'cause I hain't got none ter give 3'e fer 'em." 

Si cast a despairing look at Shorty, and then proceeded 
to take off the dainty hose with which the government 
had provided him. 

"Thar," said the guard, when his feet were encased in 
his newly acquired propertj^, "that feels better. Now 3'ou 



£20 ENFORCED "SWAPPING." 

Km put them on ef ye want ter. Ef ye don't I reck'n ye'lJ 
have ter go bar'fut, same 's we does sometimes/' 

"Them" were a pair of nondescript articles which, Hke 
the earth before the work of creation was finished, were 
"without form and void." They showed some symptoms 
of having been once intended to serve as shoes. They 
were of the rudest manufacture. Army service had made 
sad havoc wnth them and they w^ere in the last stages of 
dilapidation and decay. 

" 'Fore I'd fight fer a guvyment 't didn't do no better by 
me 'n that !" said Si, as he eyed them contemptuousl3^ 

"Looka-hyar, Yank, 3^ou don't w^ant fer to talk like 
that ; 'twon't be healthy fer ye. We've got you-uns durned 
nigh licked, 'n' w^e don't 'low ter go 'th bar' feet 'n' empty 
stummicks much longer. But we don't w^ant none o' y^t 
insiniwations!" 

Si thrust his stockingless feet into the mouths of those 
Confederate shoes, inaking wry faces as he noted the holes 
and gaping seams. 

"Ye'd better tie these yere strings 'round yer feet ter 
hold them shoes on ! " said the guard. "I've been a-doin' 
that fer a month back." 

After Si had acted upon this suggestion he could not 
help laughing, in spite of himself, at the grotesque appear- 
ance of his feet. He expressed the hooe that he would not 
have to do much marching in those shoes. 

"We're goin' ter put ye on the keers termorrer," replied 
the guard, " 'n' run ye off down south, whar ye won't 
have no chance ter git awa3^ Them old shoes is purty 
nigh played out. They ain't no good fer marchin', but 
they '11 do 's well 's any fer ridin' on the railroad. B}^ the 
wa\^ Yank, I b'lievel'll swap hats with ye. I know yourn 
s better 'n mine; ef 'tw^asn't I don't reck'n I'd w^ant ter 
trade." 

Si cast a glance of decided disapproval at the rebel 
soldier's hat, which w^as faded and worn and batt r d. 



WHERE SI "had him." 621 

While he was considering the advisability of opening a 
discussion his hat was lifted from his head by the guard, 
who offered his own in exchange. It was a fitting com- 
panion for the shapeless things that adorned Si's lower 
extremities. 

"Now, pard,"said Si, "ef ther's anything else 't ye want 
['11 thank ye ter say what 'tis right now, 'n' less have this 
tradin' business done with. I've got rayther the wust o' 
the barg'inso fur, but I liketerbeaccommerdatin'. Mebbe 
ye'd like ter have my shirt ! " 

Si nursed with much satisfaction the thought of getting 
his shirt upon the back of his persecutor. It would be a 
prime opportunity^ to revenge himself. Weeks of hard 
campaigning and lying in the trenches found his nether 
garment in a condition of unusual animation. The Con- 
federate had a kind of fellow-feeling on this point, and he 
replied : 

"I don't b'lieve I keer fer a dicker o' that sort, unsight 
'n' unseen; its too resky. Mine's bad 'nuff, 'n' I 'low I 
hadn't better take no chances on gittin'suthin aheap wuss. 
I don't want no more graybacks, but ef ye got any green- 
backs ye better be a-shellin' on 'em out." 

"I've got yethar, Johnny," replied Si with a triumphant 
smile. ' ' We hain't seen no money in a dog's age. Paj-mas- 
ters 's mighty skurce whar the bullets 's zippin' 'round. The 
climate don't agree with 'em ! " 

"Like 's not ye're lyin' to me, Yank, 'n' ef ye'll scuse me 
I'll jest see 'f ye've got any cash in yer clothes." 

"Ye're a spreadin' of it on purty thick," said Si, but he 
submitted meekly to the search, knowing that the result 
would be a full vindication of his veracity. 

" Thar, what'd I tell ^-e," he said, when the rebel had ex- 
plored all his pockets and carefully examined his clothing 
to be sure that there was none concealed under the lining. 
*'P"r'aps ye'll b'lieve me next time ! " 

"'That's all right ef 3'e hain't got none ; but this yere 's 



622 



REJECTED OVERTURES. 



a purt}^ good jack-knife. I'm needin' one, 'n' I'll jest take 
it 'n' we'll call it squar'. I'm much 'bleeged to ye." 

Shorty's meager supply of goods and chattels had been 
subjected to a similar process, and sundry articles had 
gone to replenish the wardrobe of another of the guards 
Both Si and Shorty found themselves in decidedl}^ reduced 
circumstances. They were thankful that the ravage of 
the Confederates had spared their blankets. 
"We'll let 3'e keep them," said one, "I reck'n ye'll need 

'em when ye git 

down in the pen." 

" Lemme see! " 

said the sergeant 

in charge of the 

guards to Si and 

Shorty, as they 

were s pr e a d i ii g 

,, „ down their blank- 

C^di cts by the fire, ' 'ye're 



the chaps 't tried so 
hard tcr git away 
today, ain't ye? I'll 
give yefciV warnin' 
't I ain't goin' ter 
have ye playin' any 
o' yer Yankee tricks 
on me. Ef ^^e'll give 
me yer word, 'pon 
honor, 't ye won't 




A ONE-SIUED BARGAIN. 



cut Up no capers t'night that'll settle it. Ef ye won't I'll 
have ter tie ye up, cause I'm 'sponsible fer you-all 'n' Em 
goin' ter make a sure thing on 't.'' 

"We sha'n't promise nothin'," replied Shorty. "A feller 
what's a pris'ner 's got a right ter git away ef he kin. 
It's your business ter see 't he don't. 'Tain't reggelationj^ 
for ye to go ter tyin' on us up, nuther, same 's ef we wag 



BOUND HAND AND FOOT. G23 

thieves 'n' cut-throats. Ye ought ter git some han'cuffs 
ter clap outer prisoners when ye capchers 'em ! " 

"I don't keer whether it's 'cordin' ter Hoyle er not ; it's 
goin' ter be did 'nless ye'll gimme yer word." 

"Nary time ! Go ahead with j-er tyin' ! '■ 

Shorty saw by the flickering firelight that Si's face was 
ablaze with indignation. It would be just like him to fight 
the entire squad, with such primitive weapons as nature 
had supplied. Shorty found opportunity to whisper in 
his comrade's ear : 

" Don't make any fuss, Si ; do jest 's I tell ye ! " 

The sergeant produced some pieces of stout rope and 
"with the help of two or three of the guards tied together 
Shorty's hands and then his feet. Si's breast heaved and 
his eyes flashed, but remembering Shorty's admonition he 
checked his volcanic tendencies, by a mighty effort, and 
when his turn came to be bound he submitted without a 
word. But his thoughts were raging. 

"Thar," said the sergeant, when the v^ork was finished, 
"I 'low ye won't git very fur away 'fore mornin'. Ef j^e'd 
'have yerselves 'n' act sort o' decent we'd treat ye white, 
but we b'ar down hard on them as tries ter give us the 
slip." 

"That's all right, pard," replied Shorty, "ef ye'll jest 
kiver us up 'th that thar blanket." 

The sergeant spread the blanket over the captive 
Hoosiers, as they lay utterl}' helpless, bound hand and 
foot. The hearts of their fellow prisoners revolted at the 
scene, but it w^ould have been worse than useless to re- 
monstrate. The}' disposed themselves upon the ground 
for the night, and the guards were divided into reliefs, part 
of them to sleep while the rest paced to and fro around the 
motley bivouac. 

Si's thoughts ran over the events of the day. It was the 
first chance he had had to think since the Confederate host 
swept over Fort Klegg. He tried hard to reconcile him- 



624 m A TIGHT PLACIS. 

self to his condition as a prisoner of war, but the more he 
tried the more marked was his failure. How his mother 
and sister Maria and prett}' Annabel would feel if they 
knew his situation. And then to think of Company Oand 
the rest of the 200th Indiana marching on without him. 
There he was, tied up like a miscreant, surrounded by 
rebel bayonets, and his cherished rifle in the hands of a 
foeman. It was too much for Si, and his goaded feelings 
found relief in a torrent of tears. His comrade's mind was 
busy as well, but it took a more practical turn and dwelt 
only upon the possibilities of escape. 

" Ye feel kinder leak^^ don't ye, pard?" he said, scarcely 
above a whisper, when Si began to overflow. "I thought 
it 'd hit ye in 3^er weak spot. I don't blame ye fer takin' 
on, but ye wants ter cheer up, 'cause we're goin' ter git 
out o' this sometime. P'r'aps 'twon't be t'night, ner 
t'morrer, ner next day, ner next week, but ef we keep our 
eyes peeled we'll see a hole sometime 't we kin git through. 
I know ye'll brace up, Si, fer ye alius does. We're in a 
tight place, but a bar'l o' tears won't help git us out." 

"Yer head 's level, Shorty," repied Si, as soon as he 
could command his feelings. "I ax yer parding. I 
didn't mean ter act like a baby, but I jest couldn't help it. 
I tell ye what. Shorty," he continued, after communing 
with himself for a moment, "I'd like ter be Samson, 't I 
used ter read 'bout 'n the Bible, fer jest five minnits. I'd 
bust these tarnal ropes, 'n' then I'd take the jaw-bone of a 
mule, same 's he did, 'n' I'd lay out these raskils." 

"That 'd be a fust-rate scheme ef it 'd work, but I don't 
b'lieve 't's wuth while fer ye ter try it on. We ain't both 
on us 's much 's Samson's little finger jest now." 

The captives were tied at the wrists but their fingers 
were measurably free. After a little time Shorty began 
to pick at the rope that bound Si's arms. He worked 
very carefully, under the blanket, and for along time the 
tightly drawn knots baffled his efforts. He finally sue- 



THE CORDS LOOSED, 626 

ceeded in loosening the cord, and Si found, to his great 
joy, that his hands were free. Then he proceeded to untie 
Lis comrade. 

"Be mightj^ keerful,"" said Shorty, "'n' keep the blanket 
still. I heern the sargeant tell the guards ter keep a sharp 
eye on us." 

Si's patient labor was at last rewarded and Shorty's 
arms were no longer confined. To free their feet was a 
more difficult task, as the\^ could not be reached without 
a disturbance of position that would be likely to attract 
attention. 

"Double yerself up like a jack-knife. Si," whispered 
Shorty. "Git jer feet 's fur this w^ay 's ye kin; but do it 
slow — 'n inch 't a time — so them fellers won't s'pect 
nothin'." 

Very carefully, little by little, Si drew up his knees until 
the}'- almost touched his chin. Shorty's arms were pretty 
long, and by hitching himself down he managed to reach 
the cord. 

"I wish 't I had m^^ knife 't that raskil stole from me," 
Baid Si, " 'n' we'd make a quick job on 't." 

"Mine 'd do jest 's w^ell 'f I had it," replied Shorty, "but 
one o' them fellers 's got it. You hoi' still a bit 'n' I'll 
fetch it." 

The knots were stubborn but they yielded to Shorty's 
dexterous fingers. It took half an hour for Si to get him- 
self straightened out and Short}^ to pull his feet up where 
Si could reach them. At length the last cord was loosed, 
and they had not been detected. 

"Now% Si," said Shorty, "ef ye say so we'll try 'n' make 
a break. The rest o' the pris'ners 's all sleepin', 'n' so 's 
the guard reliefs. Them 't 's on the beats 's purty wed 
tuckered out, 'n' thej^'re set'n down 'n' noddin'. They 
think we're all tied up. Ef we try it 'n' they see us, course 
they'll shoot 'n' the old scratch '11 be ter pay. It's mighty 



623 UP AND AWAY. 

ticklish business, Si, 'n' I don't ax ye ter take the chance 
o' dodgin' the bullets 'nless ye wants ter." 

"I'll jest jump at it, pard," said Si, who had listeved with 
intense eagerness. "When ye're ready gimme a hint 'n' 
I'll foller ye wherever ye go."' 

They la}' quiet for an hour, and then Shorty very care- 
fully raised his head and peered around. It was long past 
midnight. There was no moon, and the dim light of the 
twinkling stars scared}^ penetrated the foliage of the trees 
to relieve the darkness of the forest. The fire burned 
dimly and the forms of friend and foe lay motionless in 
slumber. Even the sentries had yielded to fatigue and 
were dozing in forbidden dalliance with the drowsy god. 
It seemed possible for the two captives to dash past the 
sleepy guards and in an instant be lost to sight in the dark 
wood. 

"Shall we try it, Si?" he asked, after he had explained 
the condition of affairs to his comrade. 

"Yes!" was the whispered reply, and Si'sheart throbbed 
violently at the thought of another bold dash for liberty. 
"Shall we take 'long our blankets ? " 

"I reck'n not," said Shorty; "they'd bother us runnin*. 
We'll leave 'em fer bail. Come on, quick ! " 

Springing to their feet they leaped over their sleeping 
comrades and bounded away like deer into the darkness. 
Their movement made little noise, but it was enough to 
arouse one of the guards to a consciousness that some- 
thing was out of joint. Starting up and looking wildly 
about he saw the disarranged blankets where Si and 
Shorty had been lying. Then his eye caught the fast re- 
ceding forms of the fugitives. Before he could bring his 
musket to his shoulder they were out of sight among the 
trees. 

Yelling "Halt, there! " at the top of his voice he sent a 
bullet whistling after them. In an instant everybody w^ae 
on his feet and the little bivouac was a scene of the wildest 



A FRUITLESS CHASE. 627 

uproar. The sergeant cursed the guards who had per- 
mitted the prisoners to escape, and while they were mak- 
ing up their minds what to do, Si and Shorty were speed- 
ing away at a pace that defied successful pursuit. 

Obedient to the command of the sergeant, two or three 
of the guards dashed after the runaways. More could not 
be spared, as it was necessary to watch the rest of the 
prisoners and prevent a further deliverance. The irate 
sergeant ordered his men to look to their arms, and to 
shoot down instantly any who might attempt to escape. 

The pursuers had a bootless chase. They beat about in 
a frantic way among the trees and through the bushes, 
yelling and firing their pieces. All this evinced their zeal in 
the search, but did no harm to Si and Shorty. The latter 
had taken a circuitous route and, once fairly away in the 
darkness, had no difficulty in completely baffling their 
enemies. 



CHAPTER XLV. 

In Which Si and Shorty Experience Many Vicissitudes, but their 
Pluck Brings them Through. 

BY the time Si and Shorty had reached a safe distance 
they were thoroughly "blown,'' and crept into a 
thicket to recover breath and to consult regarding future 
movements. Thus far they had scarcely spoken since they 
began their flight, intent onl}^ on putting as much distance 
as possible between themselves and their misguided fellow- 
citizens in "butternut." 

"Purty good job, that," said Si, as he lay panting on 
the ground, scarce!}' daring to speak above a whisper. "T 
never made that many tracks so quick afore in mj^ life." 



628 THEY RECONNOITER. 

"WeVe made a good start, Si," replied Shorty, but ye 
mustn't crow til yeVe out o' the woods. Gittin' awa^ 
was easy 'nough arter we got clear o' the guards. We 
sha^n't have no trouble t'night ; the rub '11 be when 't 
comes daylight. I'm all twisted up 'n these woods, 'n' I 
hain't no idee what d'rection we'd orter go ter find our 
fellers. Ef we knew which way 'n' could go straight thar 
'twouldn't take long, but ye know we can't go plumb 
through the rebel army. WeVe got ter work 'round one 
eend o' their line, some way er ruther. 'Twon't be no soft 
snap, I kin tell ye. I 'low we can't do better 'n ter stay 
here t'll it's light so we kin git our bearin's. I ain't afeard 
o' them raskils findin' us 's long 's it's pitch dark; 'n' 
mebbe they won't make much fuss 'bout it nohow, fer they 
won't want ter own up 't they let us git away so easy. 
'N' they thought they had us so dead with them pesky 
ropes!" 

They remained in their place of concealment, consider- 
ing what they should do when daylight came, and trying 
to decide upon the best possible course of action. There 
was little fear that they would be molested by any of the 
squad from which they had escaped. The guards had a 
lot of prisoners on their hands, and would think it useless 
to search for the two fugitives, supposing them to be 
miles away. 

With the first appearan.ce of dawn. Shorty began to cast 
about for the purpose of reconnoitering. 

" WeVe got ter find out how the land lays," he said to 
his companion, "'fore we kin tell what 't's best ter do. 
We ain't goin' ter run foul o' the rebs ef we kin help it." 

The increasing light revealed open ground at no great 
distance. Si and Shorty moved cautiously toward the 
edge of the wood. 

"Thar," said Shorty, "I'm goin' ter shin up :his tree Vi' 
squint 'round a bit. You watch out sharp fer any o' the 



SHORTY "gets HIS BEARINGS." 629 

Johnnies 't mout be a-loafin' here'bouts. Whistle ef ye see 
an^' on 'em." 

Shorty was a nimble climber and was soon among the 
top limbs of a tree that commanded a good view of the 
surrounding country. It scarcely need be said that S: 
kept a sharp lookout in all directions. Three or four miles 
away Short}' saw a long line of smoke, evidently from the 
breakfast fires of the Confederate army. There were none 
of the enemy in sight in the immediate vicinit}^ but in the 
distance he could see what seemed to be an encampment. 
When he had finished his observations he descended and 
hurriedly told Si what he had seen. Their only hope of 
success lay in attempting a wide detour around one of the 
enemy's flanks, and thus reaching the Union lines. Such a 
journey was perilous in the extreme, fraught with danger 
at ever}' step, and it was not without misgivings that they 
entered upon it. 

"Mebbe it'll take us a week to git 'round, ef we ain't 
gobbled up," said Shorty, as he led the way in the direction 
upon which he had decided. " But we're in this scrape 'n' 
that's the only way out. The chances is 't we'll git nabbed 
er shot. We hain't got nothin' ter fight with ner nothin' 
to eat, but we'll try 'n' pull through somehow. Ye must 
keep yer nerve up. Si, 'cause ye're likely ter have use fer all 
ye've got any minnit." 

"What we goin' ter do fer grub? " asked Si, for to him 
this question was always a living issue. Both were be- 
coming painfully conscious that they had had no break- 
fast — indeed, had eaten nothing since their cold "snack" 
behind the friendly intrenchments of Fort Klegg. 

"Men kin go 'thout eatin' a good while when the}' has 
ter," replied Shorty. Then, feeling that this would be but 
cold comfortfor Si, he added : "But Ireck'n we kin scratch 
up suthin ter bite at,ef 'tain't nothin' more'n a ear o' corn 
now 'n' then. Ef I ain't mistaken we'll have ter keep 
hid purty much durin' the daytime, 'n' go feelin' our way 



630 EMPTINESS OF STOMACH. 

'round at night. I'll jest tell ye, pard, we'll do the best we 
kin. Ef we gits cotched we can't help it, 'n' we'll wait fer 
the next chance 'n' try ag'in. Ther's nothin' like stickin* 
to it." 

They proceeded for a time with great caution, keeping 
in the woods and thick underbrush wherever practicable, 
and when in open country creeping along walls and fences. 
It was their intention as soon as they began to see signs 
of the enemy to conceal themselves for the remainder of 
the day. It was not possible for them to go a great dis- 
tance in the necessary direction without peril, as on all 
the main roads leading toward the Confederate "front," 
cavalrymen, stragglers and forage wagons w^ere contin- 
ually passing and repassing. Approaching one of these 
thoroughfares, which they dared not attempt to cross by 
daylight, they determined to find a hiding-place and re- 
main till night. 

They had quenched their thirst from an occasional pool 
of stagnant water, but their stomachs were in a state of 
violent rebellion over the scarcity of provisions. They 
had passed a cornfield or two, but every ear had been 
plucked. Famine stared them in the face, with no pros- 
pect of relief. To approach a house in quest of food would 
be madness, and an attempt to forage by daylight would 
be scarcely less dangerous. 

"What ar' we goin' ter do. Shorty?" said Si, who leaned 
heavily upon his comrade for counsel. It was a sad plight 
in which he found himself, and he mourned as those with- 
out hope. 

"It does look a leetle streaked," replied Shorty, gravely. 
"I can't see very fur ahead, but 'tain't often a feller gits 
inter sich a fix 't ther' ain't a way out ef he kin only find 
it." 

A cloud of dust in the distance betokened the approach 
of a body of horsemen, and the ears of the wanderers soon 
caught the sound of hoofs clattering on the pike. Immedi- 



A NEW AND ALARMING DILEMMA, 631 

ate concealment was necessar\'. The}- glanced quickly 
around but no friendh' cover presented itself. 

"Climb that thar tree," said Shorty. "Be spry, 'n' Til 
foller ve!" 

Two or three minutes later Si and Shorty were high 
among the branches, where they hoped that in any event 
the leaves would hide them from view. Nearer and nearer 
came the Confederate troojDers. The anxious Hoosiers 
peered through the foliage, hoping the cavalcade would 
pass, and they might safely descend. They grew suddenly 
pale, and could on]j look at each other in blank dismay, 
when the head of the galloping column turned into the 
wood and approached them. Men yelled, horses neighed 
and sabers clanked as the officer in command ordered a 
halt. Under and far around the tree from which the un- 
happy fugitives looked down upon the unwelcome scene, 
the cavalrymen in gray and butternut picketed their 
horses, " baiting " them with bundles of forage that each 
carried strapped to the saddle. Then with rude jest and 
laugh, and snatches of "Dixie" and "Bonnie Blue Flag," 
the men disposed themselves upon the ground for rest and 
refreshment. They were in high feather, which seemed to 
be due in a great measure to the fact that they had a 
bountiful supply of coffee, salt, hardtack and other articles 
that did not usually enter into the Confederate menu. 
The festive spirit that prevailed was explained by their 
conversation, from which Si and Shorty learned that they 
had just returned from a successful raid in the rear of the 
Union army, where the}' had captured one of the corps 
supply trains, well laden with commissary stores. 

With wistful eye and yearning stomach, Corporal Klegg 
looked upon the active preparations for the festivities. 
He wanted some of that coffee and hardtack, and wanted 
it "bad." Some of the raiders had cans, bottles, boxes 
and other "loot" that had evidently been taken from a 
sutler. Si found for the moment a little satisfaction in the 



632 



HARD LINES. 



thought that possibly it was the "skinner'' of the 200th 
Indiana who had been "cleaned out." 

But how long would the rebels stay there? This was 
the most important question to the young patriots roost- 
ing on the limbs of that tree. They might be off in an hour 
and theymight go into bivouac for a week. Si and Shorty 
could readily foresee that in a day or two, at most, starva- 
tior. vould compel them to surrender themselves if their vis- 
itors remained. 



"It's hard lines, 
pard," said Shor- 
ty, in a scarcely 
audible whisper, 
'^ as he gazed sym- 
^^ pathetically into 
the woe -begone 
face of his com- 
rade. 

" How kin we 
git out o' this ? 
It's the tightest 
pinch yet," re- 
plied Si, who had 
such unbounded 
faith in Shorty's 
mental resources 
that it was not 
without confi 




"treed. 



dence that he appealed to him even in this extremity. 

"I don't like ter own up 't I'm beat," said his comrade, 
"but I'm 'feared the jig 's up, ef them scalawags don't pull 
out o' thar. Seems 's ef fate 's agin us. We can't do 
nothin' only jest wait, 'n' mebbe suthin '11 turn up ter let 
us out." 

Hour after hour passed, and the troopers gave no sign 
of departure. They built shelters of rails and brush, as if 



SHORTY GETS AN IDEA. 633 

for a protracted stay, and Si regarded this hopefully. He 
knew that whenever the 200th Indiana did that, marching 
orders quickly followed, and he thought perhaps it might 
be the same way with the "Johnnies." The soldiers cut 
down some of the trees to supply themselves with materials. 
Si and Shorty united in a fervent prayer that the axe 
would not be laid to the tree in which they were quartered. 
That prayer was answered. 

During the remainder of the day the Confederates lay 
around, feasting and sleeping and chatting and smoking 
their cob pipes. The "treed" refugees could hear nothing 
that indicated a purpose to march, which alone w^ould re- 
lieve them from their predicament. 

The condition of Si and Shorty was fast approaching 
the limit of endurance. Their hunger was growing furious, 
and their cramped positions became hourly more painful. 
Haunted b}^ the constant fear of discovery, they dared not 
move hand or foot. They spoke but seldom, and only in 
faint and stifled tones. Escape seemed hopeless, and more 
than once they were on the point of making their presence 
known and opening up negotiations for an honorable sur- 
render. But still they waited and hoped against hope. 
Both were more than willing to take any desperate chance 
to regain their liberty, but there was nothing that afforded 
the slightest encouragement to attempt it. 

Si tried in vain to devise some way of escape. He could 
not think of an\^thing except something to eat. The sight 
of the riotous raiders feasting sumptuously upon their 
spoils, and the fragrance of the steaming coffee that seemed 
to be wafted upward to tantalize his nostrils, were mad- 
dening. It was plain that Si could not stand it much 
longer. Shorty kept his wits at work upon schemes for 
deliverance. One after another was carefully weighed and 
rejected as impracticable. At length a thought came to 
him, like an inspiration. By careful nursing it soon de- 
veloped into a plan that he believed was feasible; it was 



634 THE PLAN UNFOLDKU, 

worth trying, anyway. When darkness settled upon the 
wood, lessening the chances of discovery, and the "John- 
nies " were noisily engaged in making shift for the night, 
Shorty unfolded his project to his comrade. He had little 
doubt that Si would be ready to do anything he might 
suggest. 

"Si,'' he whisper d, "do ye want tertrymakin'abreak?" 

"Ye kin jest bet I do. Ef ye've got a way thunk up 't 
'11 git us out o' this mess I'll give ye all the money 't I git 
nex' pay-day. I'm beginnin' ter feel 's though I was on 
my last legs, 'n' ef ther's any show^ fer gittin' away we've 
^ot ter try it on. How'll we do it? " 

"You give yer tongue a rest, pard, "'n' I'll tell ye. These 
chaps down here, ef I ain't mistook, 's nigh played out. 
Been a-goin' it purty stiddy, day 'n' night, I reck''n. Ye 
know they've been pitchin' inter the grub 's ef they hadn't 
had nothin' t'eat fer a month, 'n'' they'll sleep mighty 
60und ternight. Bein' 's they're way back 'n the rear o' 
the rebil army I don't guess they'll put any guards on, 'n' 
ef they does I 'low they'll sleep 'long 'th the rest. They 
hain't no idee o' Yanks a-drappin' out o' the trees. Now 
arter thevall gits tersnorin' we'll slide down 'thout makin' 
no fuss 'n' jest drap f'm them lowest limbs. Mebbe ye've 
obsarved t ther' 's some o' the bosses 't ain't tied, but 's 
stan'in' 'round kind o' car'less like. 'Twon't take us but a 
jiffy ter climb outer a couple on 'em 'n' skedaddle. A good 
many o' them seceshers 's full o' suthin 't '11 keep 'em 
sleepin' 'n' I don't b'lieve any on 'em '11 git waked up quick 
'nuff ter head us off. Ef they shoots let 'em bang away ; 
them one-hoss guns 't the critter soljers lugs round don't 
mount ter much fer hittin' a body. Ar' ye in fer it, Si ?" 

This question was wholly unnecessary. Of course he 
was "in for" anything that offered a chance of escape. 

Around blazing heaps the rough-riders lounged lazily, 
eating and washing it down with tipple, of which they 
had ail abundant supply. With no danger near, discipline 



IT WORKED WELL. 635 

was relaxed after their hard service, and they were per- 
mitted to do pretty much as they pleased. The smoke of 
tlie fires at times enveloped Si and Shorty, and as they sat 
watching and waiting, manj^ a cough and sneeze that 
would have been fatal was determinedly throttled in its 
incipient stage. 

"Now 's our time," said Short}^ at length. The fires 
had burned low and the weary, surfeited and tipsy 
troopers were lying about — some wrapped in their ragged 
blankets, while others had simply wilted under the in- 
fluence of the warmth and the potations in which they 
had indulged, and lay in grotesque postures. All were in 
a heavy sleep. 

"Now be keerful, pard," said Shorty, as he led the 
descent, slowly and noiselessly. In a few minutes they 
had reached the lowest limbs, where they paused to get 
breath and to reconnoiter for the dash, by the dim light 
of the smoldering embers. 

"Pick out yer hoss, 'n' go fer him like lightnin' jest 's 
soon 's ever ye hit the ground. You take that 'ere spotted 
one 't looks like a circus hoss, 'n' I'll go fer the white-face 
sorrel. Now, ready — go!^' 

Nimbly swinging themselves down by their hands, they 
dropped a few feet to the ground. A Confederate lying 
near was half awakened by the noise and rose upon his 
elbow. None other of the sleepers had been aroused. 

"Make a sound 'n' I'll blow yer brains out !" said Shorty 
in a hoarse whisper. The startled trooper thought it wise 
to take care of what brains he had. 

In an instant the fugitives were upon the backs of the 
horses. Shorty dashed away in the direction he had 
chosen as the most favorable, urging his steed to a gallop 
as he picked his way through the bivouac. Si followed, a 
good second in the race. The straps around the necks of 
the horses sufficed to guide them in their course. 
The commotion set the picketed horses to neighing and 



636 



FREE AGAIN. 







stamping; and the cavalier who was cowed by Shorty's 
threat, thought he might now let off a yell without dan- 
ger of losing his brains. A great uproar followed, but the 
daring riders were lost in the darkness. 

Si and Shorty dashed on, they knew not whither, think- 
ing only of getting away from the hostile bivouac. They 
dared not take the road, which would doubtless be pick- 
eted by the enemy. They at length determined to aban- 
don the horses that had done them such good service, as 
feg3^<?e-^«=5r-,==?rr.ii«^:^^^ wltliout thcui thcy 

^: were less likely to be 
; discovered. After 
getting their bear- 
ings as well as they 
could they pressed 
forward on foot, 
through field and 
forest. Shorty be- 
lieved, as nearly as 
he could judge the 
distance, that if they 
could continue their 
course unmolested 
till dawn and con- 
ceal themselves the 
next day, one more 
night, if fortune still 
smiled upon them, 
would enable them to pass around the enemy's flank and 
reach the Union lines. They succeeded in finding a few 
ears of corn, which they ate raw and partially allayed the 
pangs of hunger. With every step Si's spirits rose, as hope 
gradually blossomed into full belief that the hour of deliver- 
ance was near. 

"We'd orter make the riffle this time, "he said to Shorty, 
as they lay in a clump of bushes for a short rest, "fer I 



ANOTHER BREAK. 



ANOTHER TIGHT PINCH, 637 

can't help feelin' 's though we've tried hard 'nuff ter de- 
sarye it. "You 'n' me 've arned our Hbertj, 'n' it '11 be 
purty hard ter slip up arter all we've been through. I 
don't b'lieve we will, nuther." 

All went well until just before day, when, emerging from 
a thicket in the dim starlight, they w'ere startled by the 
challenge, "Who comes thar?"' and before thev had time 
to think the}^ were covered b}^ half a dozen muskets, at 
such short range that it would have been madness to 
attempt escape. Wandering too near the enemy's lines, 
they had walked right into a Confederate outpost. Con- 
fused and terror-stricken. Si was speechless, and made no 
effort to repU' to the challenge. Had he done so his stam- 
mering w^ords w'ould instantly have betraj^ed them. In 
this new and alarming crisis he could only turn appeal- 
ingly to his companion. 

" Who comes tharF^' and the musket-locks clicked omin- 
ously as the hammers w^ere drawn up. 

"Friends!" answered Short}', without a perceptible 
tremor in his voice. His quick thoughts bad suggested 
to him a subterfuge as the only possible w^ay out of the 
dilemma. His faith in its success was extremely shadowy, 
but the remembrance of previous deliverances encouraged 
him to make the trial. 

"Advance 'n' give the countersign!" 

"Sorr^'I can't acommerdate ye," replied Shorty, "but 
me 'n' my pard 's jest been out skylarkin' 'round 'n' we 
got left outside. It'll be all right ef 3'e let us in; we wants 
ter git ter the rijiment 'fore roll-call. I reck'n ye've been 
thar yerself." 

"What ridgment d' you-all b'long to?" 

"Fort\-fifth Alabamy." 

"Whatcomp'ny?" 

"Comp'ny D!'' 

' ' Who 's yer capting ?" 



638 THE JOHNNIES TOOK THE TRICK. 

"Smith!" Shorty thought this name would be more 
likely to hit the mark than any other. 

"Now jest look-a-hyar! Ye needn't stan' thar lyin' no 
mo'. I b'longter the Fawty-fifth Alabam myself 'n' this 
yer 's Comp'ny D. Ye kain't come that air trick. Ye hain't 
got the right kind o' clothes on, nuther. I b'lieve ye're 
ornery Yanks, 'n' dog my skin ef we don't settle yer hash 
right now." 

There was but one thing to do, and Shorty waved his 
hand in token of surrender. * ' The trick 's j^ourn, pard, " he 
said. "Ye've got all the trumps 'n' ther' ain't no use 
tryin' ter play the game out." 

Once more Si and Shorty were in the toils, and despair- 
ingly sat down upon a log. Si ventured to speak of his 
famished condition, and one of them gave him a section 
of musty corn "pone." No piece of pie from his mother's 
cupboard had ever been so welcome. In reply to the ques- 
tions of their captors, Shorty told the story of their recent 
adventures. 

"'Pears like ye're mighty slip'ry chaps,'' said one, "but 
I 'low ye won't git away this time." 

As soon as it was fully light they were marched under a 
formidable escort with fixed bayonets, and delivered to an 
officer. Early in the day they were started southward, 
with a squad oi other prisoners, strongly guarded. At 
the nearest railwa^^ station they boarded a train and 
^vent whirling away. Poor Si was again plunged into the 
lowest depths of woe. 

Hours and hours the train sped on. Si would have 
abandoned himself to utter despair but for an occasional 
word of encouragement from Short3\ At last they reached 
their destination and were turned loose in a great "bull- 
pen," where were many thousands of their unfortunate 
fellows. 

What pen can adequately portray the scenes .of human 
suffering and ^^^retchedness that everywhere met the eyes 



IN THE PKISON-PEN. 639 

of the new comers, as they wandered, dazed and bewil- 
dered, among the multitude of starving, half-naked cap 
tives ! Pale, gaunt and haggard, wasted by disease and 
hunger, their scanty garments in rags, many without 
shelter from the weather — they gave ghastly evidence of 
"man's inhumanity to man." Language is feeble, and 
words seem to have lost their meaning, when attempt is 
made to depict the long, bitter agony of body and mind 
and heart that often made death a welcome relief, in that 
hell upon earth. 

As Si and Shorty roamed through the prison hundreds 
of poor wretches crowded around them, inquiring with in- 
tensest eagerness concerning the progress of the war and the 
prospect of its continuance ; and above all else whether 
anything was being done toward an exchange of prisoners. 
Exchange ! — this was the ignis-fatuus that was ever before 
the eye of the prisoner. Time and time again its fitful 
light awakened hope and expectation in the sorrowing 
heart, only to disappear in darkness more dense and com- 
fortless than before. Thousands of brave, patient men, in 
whose memories dw^ell the horrid specters of those prisons, 
never can be convinced that the United States Government 
was not culpably responsible for a vast amount of suffer- 
ing and death, by its failure to agree with the Confederate 
authorities upon terms for an exchange of prisoners. 

Si's tender heart was profoundly moved. He saw 
emaciated men struggling around the slender fires to cook 
their meager rations of meal, or scraping bare beef bones 
to the last vestige of nutriment. He saw them huddling 
under tattered blankets to shield them from the fierce 
noonday heat, or creeping like burrowing beasts into their 
holes in the ground. He saw his fellow-soldiers, with hol- 
low eyes, weak and helpless and devoured by vermin, borne 
onstretcherstotheoverflowinghospitals. He saw wagons 
heaped like butchers' carts in the shambles with skeleton 
corpses, driven to the vast potter's field, where tl:e eye 



640 PLANNING ONCE MORE. 

grew weary and the heart sick at sight of the endless rows 
of graves. He heard the crack of musket and the whistle 
of bullet as it sped with unerring aim to strike down a 
demented wretch who, crazed by his sufferings, had unwit- 
tingly crossed the barbarous "dead-Hne." He heard the 
shrieks and curses of those whose gnawing misery had 
bereft them of moral volition and made them brutes. He 
heard the groans of despair from men who had lived 
this hideous, corroding life through many long, wretched 
months, and in whose hearts scarce a flickering spark of 
hope remained. Even the harrowing sights and sounds 
of the battle and the field hospital were not so sickening 
and abhorrent as these. 

"Shorty," said Si that night, as they lay together, out 
under the pit3ang stars, "we've got ter git out o' here er 
die a-tryin'. I axed one o' the bo^^s 'bout it 'n' he said a 
good many on 'em tries it but they mostly gits shot ei 
ketched by the bloodhounds the rebils turns loose on 'em. 
A few gits away, 'n' I reck'n we kin do 't 'f anybody else 
kin. We got tripped up two er three times v^hen we tried 
it on, but I'm 'n favor o' keepin' at it 'n' ther's no tellin' 
but we'll git thar next time. Anyhow I'd a mighty sight 
ruther be shot 'n ter stay here 'n' starve ter death er be et 
up by the gray backs." 

"I hain't said nothin' to ye," replied Shorty, "'cause I 
didn't see no chance yit, but I've kep' on thinkin' 'bout 
gittin' away every minnit sence we walked inter the arms 
o' them Johnnies t'other mornin'. Arter what I've seen 
here I'm fiercer 'n ever. You jest keep shady. Si, 'n' I'll tip 
ye a wink soon 's I see the ghost of a show." 

The next day the newly arrived prisoners were visited by 
a Confederate officer, with smooth tongue and persuasive 
address, who asked them if they vv^ould like to get out of 
prison. All were eager to know how they might be re- 
stored to libertv, for after the scenes the}' had witnessed 
the dark cloud of despair was already hovering over them. 



NOT AT SUCH A PRICE. 64;1 

"Course we 'd be glad ter git out,'' said Si, "ef ye'll only 
jest tell us how ter do it.'' 

"It is a very simple thing," replied the officer, "just en- 
list in the Confederate army. Our cause is certain to suc- 
ceed, and we will do well by you. Here is a roll if you 
would like to sign it." 

"Cap," said Si, and his eyes flashed with indignation, 
"what do ye take us fer? I kin tell ye that yeVe barkin' 
up the wrong tree. Ye kin roll up that paper 'n' put it 'n 
yer pocket, fer ther' ain't nobody 'n this crowd that '11 
sisfn it. Leastwise I won't ; I'll die a hunderd times 'fore 
I'll do sich a thing. I know my pard won't, nuther, w^ill 
ye. Shorty? " 

" No-sir-ee-i>o£> .'" was the terse response of his comrade 
The emphasis he placed upon the "bob" was the strongest 
possible evidence of his loyalty. 

There was perfect unanimity of sentiment in the party, 
and the officer retired without having secured any recruits 
to fight against the flag of their country. The starving 
prisoners gathered around, w^aved their skinny hands, and 
greeted them with approving cheers and shouts of " Bully 
for the fresh fish ! " This term was universally app led to 
new arrivals of prisoners. 

Ah, no! all these have long suffered for their patriot- 
ism, and yonder lie thousands who were faithful and true 
to the last feeble gasp of expiring life; and Corporal Klegg 
and his comrade are not the ones to betray their country, 
upon whose altar they have laid their all ! 

We need not enter into the details of their daily prison 
life. The exceeding meagerness and wretched quality of 
the food were a constant and powerful spur to Si in his 
efforts to devise some way of escape. Scarcely an hour 
passed that he did not propose to his comrade some plan 
that Shorty's better judgment condemned as impracticable. 
The latter was fully vested with the veto power, and most 
of Si's relief measures were promptly disposed of in this way. 



642 



A CHANCE OFFERED. 



Shorty counseled patience, but Si grew restive at the 
delay. More than once Shorty directed his attention to 
the cordon of watchful sentinels, clad in gray, with loaded 
muskets, around the stockade ; the body of troops with- 
out, quick to respond to the slightest alarm; and the 
artillery, with shotted guns, planted upon the adjacent 
hills. The frequent attempts to escape, by tunnels and 
otherwise, had served to heighten the vigilance of the 
guards. 
"We don't want ter make a break," said Shorty, "'less 

we've got a livin' 
chance. Ef we try it 
'n' git cotched, that'll 
be the end on 't. I 
« 'low they'll chuck us 
in where we'll have ter 
stay fer a while." 

Two or three weeks 
later, when a detail 
w^as made to go with 
w^agons for wood, 
Shorty volunteered the 
services of himself and 
his comrade. They 
were yet vigorous, and 
better able to do the work than others. Si gladly con- 
sented, casting a quick, inquiring glance at Shorty, 
which the latter readily interpreted. " Look sharp. Si," 
he said, *"n' watch me cluss, but be keerful 'bout lettin' 
on!" 

The detail, accompanied by a detachment of rebel soldiers, 
went to the forest, half a mile from the stockade. The 
prisoners were so docile and industrious that their attend- 
ants were in a measure thrown off their guard and loitered 
carelessly about. Shorty and Si started for a stick that 
lay a few steps beyond the guards. 




IN THE PRISON-PEN. 



AND PROMPTLY IMPROVED. 643 

"Do ye want ter try it, Si?" asked Shorty in a whispei. 
**Ye know these rebil guns has all got bullets in 'em! " 

" Go it ! " was the reply. 

As they stooped to lift the log, Shorty glanced quickly 
at the guards, and saw that none were watching with 
especial attention. 

"Now, git — fer yer life ! " he said in a low tone. 

"Both bounded away, and so quick were their move- 
ments, and so noiseless their steps upon the yielding earth, 
that they were a dozen paces away among the thick trees 
before their flight was discovered. 

"Halt, there, you Yanks! " yelled one of the guards, as 
he drew up his musket and fired wildly, the ball whistling 
among the tree-tops. Crack — crack — and a dozen illy- 
directed missiles were sent after the fugitives, who were 
now rods awa}^ and going six feet at a step. The bullets 
pattered against the trees, two or three of them zipping 
unpleasantly near, but neither of the swiftly flying Hoosiers 
was touched. 

"Ef they stop ter load we kin git out o' range," said 
Shorty, to encourage his panting comrade, "'n' ef they 
tries ter chase us 'th the'r traps on we kin outrun 'em. 
Leg it. Si ; put in yer best licks ! " 

Si needed no urging. He leaped over the ground like a 
deer, with a burst of speed that surprised himself and fairly 
challenged the longer and usually more active legs of 
Shorty. 

A few of the guards threw down their muskets and 
started in pursuit. Those who remained had their hands 
full of business immediately. Quick to seize an oppor- 
tunity, as soon as the thoughtless guards had discharged 
their muskets, one of the prisoners shouted "Come on, 
boys, here's our chance!" and away they all went, scat- 
tering in every direction. This was highly favorable for 
Si and Shorty, who by this time were out of sight in 
the woods. The demoralized guards — terror-stricken at 



6i4 



ELUDING THEIR PURSUERS. 



thought of the punishment thej^ would incur for having 
permitted a "delivery" — charged around -with frantic A-ells 
in the vain effort to stop the runaways. Meanwhile the 
sound of the firing had alarmed the forces at the prison 
and a few minutes later a squadron of cavalry was on the 
gallop to join in the chase. 

Si and Shorty had no difficulty in outstripping their pur- 
suers, who vt'Cre incumbered by their accouterments, and 

for the moment 
they were free. 
They knew they 
would be hunt- 
ed by men and 
horses and fierce 
dogs, and they 
sped on, that 
they might get 
as much the 
start as possi- 
ble. If they could 
baffle their ene- 
mies until night 
there would be 
hope. 

An hour — two 
hours — passed, 
and they were 
miles from the 
loathsome pris- 
on. Carefully avoiding the highwaA^s and habitations 
of man, they threaded their way through forest and 
copse. At length they thought they heard the distant 
baying of the hounds upon their track. Fortunately 
one of those great swamps so often met with in the 
south was near. With stick in hand to feel their way 
they plunged in and made for its darkest recesses, the 




IN THE SWAMP. 



RUNNING THE GAUNTLET. 64C 

foul, slimy water at times reaching to their waists. For 
another hour they floundered on and then, as the^^ seemed 
to be nearing the farther side of the morass, Shorty advised 
concealment till night. They crept into a dense clump ol 
bushes and rank swamp grass. Standing knee deep in 
water, they waited through the closing hours of the day 
for the darkness. 

Little breath had been wasted in talk during their flight. 
Now they were free to canvass the situation and decide 
upon their course. There was not much argument or dif- 
ference of opinion, for Shorty's judgment had so rarely 
proved at fault that it was never called in question by his 
confiding comrade. Shorty had never studied astronomy 
from the books, but he thought he knew enough about the 
moon and the stars to be able to shape the long and peril- 
ous journey which they had so auspiciously begun. Their 
hearts sank as they thought of the many miles that they 
must traverse by night. But they cheered each other and 
stoutly nerved themselves for the trial. 

It will suffice for this veracious chronicle to say that Si 
and Shorty were among the few who succeeded in running 
the fearful gauntlet. They traveled by night, resting during 
the daytime in swamps and brakes and thickets, sleeping 
and watching each in turn. They subsisted upon corn, 
which was then in kernel, raw vegetables which they 
found here and there, and an occasional meal that tasted 
"sweeter than honey and the honeycomb," in the humble 
cabin of a friendly negro. Thus they pressed forward, for 
many days and nights. The worthless shoes given them 
in exchange the day of their first capture gave out entirely. 
Withfeet bare and bleeding, their clothestornby thorns and 
brambles, chilled by the nightly dews, beaten by sun and 
storm, and often enduringthe pangs of hunger, they pushed 
on toward the goal . When at last they entered the lines of 
the Union army, Si's long pent-up feelings found relief in a 
succession of wild yells that came near stampeding a whole 



646 



SAFE AT LAST. 



brigade. Such an overwhelming happiness had not filled 
his heart since the day he first put on a uniform as a recruit 
of" Company Q. 

The two vagabonds were received with a salvo of cheers 
by their comrades of the 200th Indiana. They had long 
since been given up for dead. The men crowded around 
them to hear the story of their adventures. 

"Fll tell ye all 'bout it 
rarter a wdiile," said Sij 
"but ye'll have ter jest 
wait t'll I git filled up 
'with hardtack 'n' sow- 
belly. I'm holler clear 
down ter my toes ! " 

All the haversacks in 
the company were at 
once placed at the dis- 
posal of the returned 
fugitives, and nothing 
was thought of until 
their hunger had been 
satisfied. 

Then the orderly took them to the quartermaster, who 
fitted them out from top to toe v^rith new clothes. In the 
important matter of a shirt, Si was careful to draw one 
that was about four sizes too large for him. He knew it 
would shrink to the right proportions the first time he 
w^ashed it. The first army shirt Si had, shortened up so 
much after a washing that it looked more like a vest than 
a. shirt. 




RETURN OF THE VAGABONDS. 



CHAPTER XLVI. 

Si and Shorty Tak. { Sweet Revenge Upon the Enemy— Corporal 
Klegg Meets with a Sore Bereavement. 

ONE day the corps to which the 200th Indiana be- 
longed, flanked by a heavy force of cavalry, was dis- 
patched on arapid detour to the enemy's rear, to strike the 
railroad which was hischief source of supply. To favor the 
movement the main body of the Union army closely 
pressed the Confederate lines at all points, making it im- 
possible for the latter to detach any considerable body to 
operate against the raiders. 

Imposing and noisy "demonstrations," as they were 
called, to hold the attention of the enemy and mask the 
real movement elsewhere, were prominent in the strategy 
of this campaign, and of frequent occurrence on both sides. 
Sometimes only a brigade or division, at other times a 
corps or half the army, engaged in the spasmodic effort to 
deceive "the other fellows." The troops charged with 
this duty were bountifully supplied with ammunition, 
often a hundred rounds or more per man, and marched 
to the line of fortified outposts. Here, for hours at a 
time, they did nothing but load their muskets and blaze 
away into the woods toward the enemy— and j-ell. Often 
a battery or two of artillery contributed to the frightful 
din, sending shot and shell plunging through the trees. 
It was great sport for the boys, as they, in imagination, 
mowed down the rebels by hundreds, without danger 



64'^ 



6i8 MAKING A "demonstration." 

to themselves. After one of these ebuUitions the trees in 
front, which were the only sufferers, were a sight to ber 
hold. Not one of them but was slivered and scarred for a 
distance of fifty feet from the ground. Twenty or thirty 
men would select a tree perhaps a foot in diameter as a 
particular target and actually cut it down with their bul- 
lets. At these times the men worked themselves up almost 
to tl^e excitement of actual battle. At night they were 
hoarse from yelling, and as much exhausted as if they had 
been fighting all day. These theatrical performances were 
intended to distract the enemy and, if possible, induce him 
to weaken the point really to be assailed, by withdrawing 
from it troops to reinforce the line where the stunning 
hullaballoo indicated a probable assault. If he did this the 
"demonstration" was considered a success, and the tons 
of lead and iron so promiscuously scattered about were 
not Wasted. 

While one of these terrifying fusillades was in progress the 
corps alluded to, by a rapid march, brushing away the 
enemy's cavalry which hovered around, reached the rail- 
road that was its objective point. The men had been 
crowded to the utmost and were much wearied, but there 
was not a moment for rest. The success of the expedition 
and the safety of the command depended upon the greatest 
celerity of movement. The cavalry was sent out in all di- 
rections to watch the enemy. Half the infantry was ad- 
vantageously posted, throwing up hasty intrenchments, 
to cover the other half, which entered at once and with 
2est upon the work of destruction. 

The cutting of railroads was, from the outbreak of the 
war, encouraged on both sides, and by this time had de- 
veloped into an important military industry'. Various 
implements and appliances, to facilitate the havoc and 
maks it as effectual as possible, were part of the equipment 
of every army. 

"Now we're goin' ter have some fun, Shorty !" exclaimed 



THEY STRUCK THE RAILROAD. 



649 



Si, as the 200th Indiana stacked arms beside the track 
and the specific duty to be performed became apparent to 
alL "I hain't never fergot the time the Johnnies cnt our 
cracker-Hne, 'n' I've aUus been hopin' we'd git a chance ter 
pa}' 'em back. 'Sides that you 'n' me 's got a pertickler 
spite agin this 'ere railroad, 'cause it's the one 't tuk us 
down ter that measly place 't we had sich a time gittin' 
'wa\' from. I've got a fust-rate stummick fer pitchin* 
inter this job !" 
Five thousand men were thickly distributed on both 




DESTROYING A RAILROAD. 



sides of the road for a mile. The}' did not lay off their 
accouterments, and their muskets were Avithin grasp, 
should there be occasion to stop work and go to fighting. 
Axes, sledge-hammers, levers and "claws" were plentifully 
supplied. A few spikes were quickly drawn at intervals 
of two or three hundred yards. Then the men laid hold 
of the rails on one side, gave a mighty yell, and in an in- 
stant the track was turned over into the ditch. Vigorous 
blows with the sledges rapidly detached the ties from the 
rails. Meanwhile others had started a hundred fires all 



650 "JEFF DAVIS'S NECKTIES." 

along the line. Upon these the ties were loosely piled, 
with quantities of fence rails and dry limbs and brush to 
feed the flames The long, clumsy iron rails were picked 
up, with a dozen men to each, as if they were feathers, 
and laid across the blazing heaps. In half an hour they 
were at a red heat, for six or eight feet in the middle. 
Then came the final process by which the devastation was 
made complete. With grappling-irons, made for the pur- 
pose, the rails were twisted two or three times around, as 
Si had often seen his mother twist doughnuts. The still 
glowing rails were then bent entirely around the trunks of 
standing trees, w^here they were left to cool. 

It was a scene of wild and furious tumult, never to be 
forgotten — the yelling, scrambling, sweating men, their 
faces begrimed with dust and smoke, lifting, prying, 
pounding and chopping, the shouts of the officers directing 
the operations and urging up the laggards, and the blaz- 
ing, crackling fires, stretching far along the track on either 
side. A few hours sufficed to utterly destroy miles of the 
road — the ties in ashes and the twisted, shapeless rails 
transformed into rings encircling the trees. 

When an undertaking of this kind was thoroughly car- 
ried out it caused, in many cases, serious embarrassment 
to the Confederate army. The vast mineral resources of 
the south were then almost entirel}^ undeveloped. Before 
the war all iron for railroads in that section was ob- 
tained from the north or imported from Europe. The 
south had no means to make good the wear of constar , 
use and the ravage of war. If rails were merely heated 
and bent it was possible to straighten them so that they 
mieht be relaid, but when thev were fantasticallv twisted 
by the grappling-irons of well equipped raiders, they were 
made valueless except as they might command the market 
price for "old iron." The frequent raids upon the lines of 
supply of the Union army, though annoying, w^ere fat less 
disastrous than was the destruction of railroads to the 



THE MILITARY RAILROADS. 651 

enemy. The government kept at all desirable points abun- 
dant supplies of rails, ties, spikes, etc., and the engineer 
corps repaired the breaks Avith a rapidit\' that was amaz- 
ing. Not infrequently this was ^done tmder fir^, the 
men toiling with their muskets slung over their backs, 
part of them keeping back the enemy while the others 
pushed forward the w^ork. There seemed to be nothing 
impossible to the intelligent soldiers of the Union army. 

Railroads were invaluable for the speedy transportation 
of troops and supplies. At times, w'hen extraordinary 
facilities were needed — as when two corps were sent 
from the Army of the Potomac to reinforce the Army of the 
Cumberland at Chattanooga — the government took pos- 
session cf the necessary roads with all their rolling-stock, 
and as many engines and cars of other roads as could be 
used ; and for the time all private business had to give way. 
The southern roads, in the territory occupied by the Union 
army, were in many cases laid with new rails, the gauge 
being changed w^hen necessary, and stocked with engines 
and cars owmed by the government. These were all des- 
ignated "U. S. M. R. Rds."— United States Military Rail- 
roads. During the last year of the war the military rail- 
way service reached the height of efficiency. Plenty of 
engineers, conductors and trainmen were found, w^ho took 
their lives in their hands as truh^ as did the soldiers who 
marched to battle. 

While the 200th Indiana and the other wreckers were 
engaged in their work, they were more than once called 
into line with loaded muskets by sharp firing on the 
outposts, where there was constant skirmishing with the 
•tnemy's cavalr\'. At length a horseman came galloping 
in with the intelligence that a large bodj- of Confederate 
infantry' was approaching with rapid strides. The bugles 
sounded the "fall in" and away went the Union force, 
leaving the road for miles a smoking ruin. Through the 
night, stumbling along in the darkness, the men pushed 



652 A WHITE FLAG. 

on, harassed in front, flank and rear b}- the rebel riders. 
Morning found the corps safely back in its place behind 
the great line of intrenchments. 

Si and Shorty ate their hardtack and bacon that day 
with keen enjoyment. Nothing since the regiment left 
Indiana had given them so much satisfaction as the oppor- 
tunity to wreak their vengeance upon that railroad. 

During the next few da^'s the zipping bullets that came 
in a constant shower from the rebel side seemed to be more 
than usually spiteful. They hissed angrily through the air, 
and pelted the "head-log" that surmounted every field- 
work. This log — usually ten or twelve inches in diameter 
— was laid along the top of the work, resting upon blocks, 
leaving a crevice two or three inches wide through which 
the gun was thrust for firing, the log affording good pro- 
tection to the heads of the soldiers. Of course some bul- 
lets found their way through the crevice and did fatal ex- 
ecution, but many lives were saved by the "head-log." 

After one of the fierce engagements that were of such 
frequent occurrence during those bloody days, Si Klegg 
and Shorty were on the picket line. A small body of Con- 
federates appeared in the edge of the timber skirting a 
field, waving a white cloth. 

" Be they goin' ter s'render? " asked Si. "I sh'd think 
they'd be gittin' tired 'n' wantin' ter quit ! " 

"I reck'n not," replied Shorty. "Looks termelikeaflag 
o' truce." 

This it proved to be. The proper oflBcer being summoned 
to receive the message, a request from the Confederate 
commander was delivered for a cessation of hostilities for 
two hours, to bury the dead. The bodies lay between the 
lines, and among them were some of the desperately 
wounded, inaccessible from either side so long as the firing 
was continued. 

The truce was agreed to, ond the necessary orders were 
at once sent alonc; the I'riss. Gladlv the combatants laid 



-OUR BUGLES SANG TRUCE. 



653 



down their arms and threw off their accouterments. The 
deadly crack of musket and whiz of bullet ceased and there 
came a brief season of quiet that was like a glimpse of 
heaven to the soldiers, weary of war. Large burial parties 
were detailed from each army, for the valor of both was 
attested by the corpses that lay upon that field, fast black- 
ening in the sun. Some wdth picks and shovels dug long 
trenches, in which were laid, side by side, the comrades 
who never again would fall in for roll-call or battle charge. 
Others tenderly lifted the wounded upon stretchers and 
bore them away. As far as possible the dead were identified 
and the resting place of 
each was marked by a 
roughly - carved head- 
board. No prayers 
were said ; there was 
no hearse with nod- 
ding plumes, no toll- 
ing of funeral bells; 
no loved ones to weep 
over the fallen brave. 
One by one, with per- 
haps not so much as a 
blanket for a wnnding- 
sheet, they were cov- 
ered with the earth 
which, a few hours before, they had trodden in the awful 
struggle. 

Officers and men not engaged in the dut}^ of interment, 
leaving behind them the implements of death, mingled freel x'- 
between the lines, none, of course, passingtheintrenchments 
of the other side. Soldiers in blue and in gray chatted as 
if the\' had been lifelong friends instead of deadly enemies, 
whose onW thought and act, day after day, was to take 
life. The fast-filling graves around them did not repress 
the laugh and jest that to one less calloused to such scerei 




UNDER A TRUCE. 



654 *'sucH IS war!" 

would appear sacrilege. Personally these men were not 
foes, and they were alike brave in defense of what they 
believed to be the right. Save an occasional good-natured 
boast or rally in the way of badinage, little was said 
about the principles involved in the war or the conduct of 
the desperate campaign in which they were engaged. 
They bartered coffee and salt for tobacco, and cordially 
united in expressing the' hope that the war would soon 
end. Each was equally persistent in declaring that there 
was but one way in which it must and should end, and 
that was by the complete success of his side. 

Officers lounged about in little groups, talking of more 
weighty matters, and passing the flask from one to 
another in the most sociable manner. 

Two hours — the last body has been buried and the 
mangled sufferers have been carried within the respective 
lines. A bugle blast gives notice "to whom it may con- 
cern" — and it concerns them all — that the truce is ended. 
The soldiers of the opposing armies shake hands, speak 
kind words of parting, and soon disappear behind the 
intrenchments. No one has feared to go unarmed among 
his enemies, for lost to honor indeed is that soldier who 
would violate the faith of a truce. Few graver offenses 
are known to military law. 

Now the dove of peace, whose white wings for a little 
time have fluttered above the hostile legions, flies sadlj 
away, as the soldiers buckle on again their warlike trap- 
pings and seize their muskets. There is a blazing line be- 
neath the head-logs and the killing and maiming goes on 
as before. Perhaps at the first shot one may send a his- 
sing bullet through the brain of him whose hand but a 
moment ago he took in friend!}' parting. Such is war ! 

Night falls, and once more the din is hushed. A band of 
the Union army — for the music has not all been sent to the 
rear — goes to the trenches and plays "The Star Spangled 
Banner." The soldiers wave their caps and rill the air 



MUSIC IN THE TRENCHES. 655 

•with a tremendous chorus of shouts and cheers. All is 
quiet "over the way" until the echoes have ceased, and 
then a Confederate band strikes up the lively cadences of 
"Dixie," and it is theirturnto yell. The "Johnnies " make 
the most of the opportunity, striving to dwarf the Union 
cheers by the volume of sound that conies from their lusty 
lungs. All is still again, and the stirring strains of the 
"Red, White and Blue" are heard. This arouses afresh 
the patriotic ardor of the Union soldiers and they shout 
louder and longer than before. Then upon the other side 
is heard the "Bonnie Blue Flag," and the men in gray, 
who have sung it a thousand times in camp and on the 
march, almost split their throats with responsive yells. 
The next number in the impromptu program is "John 
Brown's Body," which the band plays defiantly. When 
it is finished thousands of blue-coated soldiers join in sing- 
ing, with all the power they can command : 

"Weil hang Jeff Davis on a sour-apple tree." 

This has an inflammatory effect, and the crack of mus- 
kets and sputtering volley of bullets clearh^ show the dis- 
favor with which half the audience receives this selection. 
The balls go high, as if only intended to evince disapproval. 
The singers seize their guns and send back a hailstorm of 
lead in reply. 

"Say, Johnny," shouts one at the top of his voice — for 
the strongly fortified lines are so near that his words can 
reach — "That makes us squar'. Now let up on shootin' 
and don't spile the concert ! " 

"All right, Yank," was the reply, "but yer don't want 
ter be givin' us no more o' that dog-goned slush. We 
didn't 'low to hit ye, but ef ye sing that ag'in we'll aim 
low next time! " 

The Confederate band responds with " My Maryland," 
and the soldiers sing : 

" The despot's heel is on thj- shore, 
Maryland, m3- Maryland." 



65fc> ONCE MORE TO THE BREACH. 

After the rebels have yelled sufficiently over this popular 
southern song, peace and good feeling are restored by 
the tender chords of "Annie Laurie" from the band in the 
Union trenches. The other meets it, in the same spirit, with 
**Auld Lang Syne, "and the men of both armies cheer. Then 
follow, the bands playing alternately, "Bowld Soger Boy," 
"Comin' thro* the R^'^e," "When Johnny Comes March- 
ing Home," "Old Kentucky Home," "Way Down upon the 
SuwaneeRiber" and "NellieGray." "Music hath charms" 
to soften even the asperities of "grim visaged war," and 
thousands of hearts are moved as both bands unite in 
"Home, Sweet Home." But for the darkness we might see 
many a swarthy and battle-scarred veteran dash away a 
tear with the rough sleeve of his blouse. With tender, 
passionate thoughts cf far-off loved ones the soldiers 
stretch themselves upon the ground, their muskets beside 
them, save those who are to keep vigil at the works and 
upon the lonely outposts. 

There came a day when the soldiers of the 200th Indi- 
ana looked for the last time into the blazing muzzles of the 
rebel guns. The long campaign — and the war in that de- 
partment of the army — closed with a defeat of the enemy, 
so crushing and overwhelming that recovery from the 
blow was impossible. 

When the dispositions wcx«" made for the last grand 
assault upon the Confederate lines, the duty of carrying a 
strong fort at an important point was assigned to the 
brigade to which the 200th Indiana belonged. Whilewait- 
ng for the final word of command the troops lay down in 
line, covered by their intrenchments. The cannon that 
had long been bellowing through the embrasures of the fort 
were silent, and those who manned them seemed to be gath- 
ering strength to meet the expected shock. No sound of 
tausket was heard, except an occasional exchange of shots 
on the picket-line. It was the calm before the bursting of 
the storm. 



"war 's mighty satisfyin'." 657 

Only a fragment of the 200th remained. Of the thou- 
sand men with which it took the field, scarcely a hundred 
were now in its ranks. Of these many bore the honorable 
scars of battle. The graves of its dead thickly dotted the 
fiery and devious path it had so painfully traveled. Hun- 
dreds, disabled by wounds and wasting disease, no longer 
answered to their names at roll-call. The regiment had 
done its duty faithfully and well. Often tried in war's 
fiercest crucible, its name had never been tarnished by dis- 
honor. Its record was without spot, and its shrunken 
line was a silent yet most eloquent testimonial to its 
valor. 

The dauntless heroes looked gravely into one another's 
faces as they lay there, ready as ever to leap into the vor- 
tex of the conflict, with ears strained to catch the order to 
advance. There was an undefined feelingthat the end was 
near at hand. To pass safely through the years of blood 
and fall at the last, in the hour of victory', seemed a cruel 
fate. Yet to many of those soon to face the belching guns 
of the fort but a few minutes of life remained. Who would 
go down before the crimson sickle that was again to be 
thrust into the thinned ranks? Who would once more 
come out unscathed, and still live to maintain the honor 
of that faded and riven flag? 

"Shorty," said Si, "I can't help feelin' 't I'll be mighty 
glad when the war 's over. Ye know well 'nuff I 
don't mean 't I want ter quit till His over; but 'pears ter 
me 's though everybody, north 'n' south, them 't 's sol- 
jerin' 'n' them 't 's to hum, must be gittin' 'bout 's much 
on it 's they kin stand, I know 't what I've had '11 last 
me 'f I sh'd live ter be 's old 's Methuzelum." 

"Mebbe ye hain't fergot," replied Shorty, "what I used 
ter say to ye 'long at fust, when ye was so fierce ter git 
inter a fight. Ye know I told ye 't ye'd git filled up 'fore 
ye got through. War 's mighty satisfyin' — a leetle on 't 
goes a good ways — 'n' 't don't take long ter kindei use up 



658 THE RUSH FOR THE FORT. 

a feller's liankerin' arter it. I reck'n ye'll think more o' 
yer home, when ye git thar, 'n ye ever did afore." 

" YouWe got ter go home 'long 'th me when we gits dis- 
charged. It sort o' runs 'n my head 't the rebils is losin' 
theV grip 'n' they '11 let go one o' these days. I want ye 
ter come ter the old farm 'n' stay jest 's long 's ever ye' re a 
mind ter. Ye know I'm yer superior ossifer 'n' when I tells 
ye ter do a thing ye have ter do it. But I'll be glad when 
this fight terday 's over." 

"It'll be time 'nough when the war does peter out ter 
figger on what we're goin' ter do then," replied Shorty. 
"We ain't out o' the woods yet, 'n' mebbe — " 

A bugle blast, sharp and clear, brings every man to his 
feet. 

"Now, my brave men," shouts the colonel, "we're going 
into that fort ; follow me ! " 

The soldiers leap over their intrenchments and with loud 
cheers dash forward. There is not a straggler; all such 
have long since disappeared from the ranks of the 200th. 

Those within the fort send up a defiant yell. The guns 
have been double-shotted, and at each stands a man with 
the lanyard in his hand. As the assailants come within 
range there is a roar that makes the earth tremble. Vol- 
umes of flame and smoke burst from the embrasures and 
a tempest of canister sweeps the charging line. Before 
that withering blast many a gallant hero falls. The 
ground is thickly strewn with the dead and wounded. 

"Forward! " 

No need to give command, for save those who are stricken 
down not a man falters. Muskets blaze along the hostile 
line and bullets sing their death-song. Fast as men can 
reload, cannon and musket send forth their fiery breath. 

The 200th Indiana leads the brigade in the onwaid 
rush. Comrades fall at every step. Each instant of time 
is precious, for in a few minutes none will be left. Tl"- 
ranks are thin and ragged but they sweep on with no 



ON TO THE CREST. 659 

thought but of the goal. Close upon the heels of the 200th 
press those of the other regiments whom the storm of 
missiles has spared, xying with one another to first scale 
the wall of the fort. Often a flag goes down as its bearer 
falls, but it is instantly seized and borne proudly aloft, as 
the men, with loud shouts, fairly leap along the ground. 
Blood is streaming from some who, wounded but not dis- 
abled, push on with their brave comrades. 

Now they reach the abattis of stakes and brushwood. 
Some have brought axes, and under the withering fire 
from the fort they cut and slash, while their comrades at 
intervals wrench aw^ay the obstructions. Through the 
gaps they rush, and down into the deep trench that sur- 
rounds the fortification. Now they are below the range 
of the enemy's guns, but shells with hissing fuses are tossed 
over the parapet to burst among the panting, struggling 
soldiers in the ditch. The assailants cannot stop here. 
Retreat or surrender they will not ; but is it possible for 
them to advance further ? 

Quick as thought some mount the shoulders of others 
and clamber upon the bank. Then these seize their com- 
rades by the hands and pull them up. One more dash and 
the question of success or failure will in a moment be 
solved. They sweep up the steep side of the fort. Some, 
pierced by angry bullets, roll down among those who lie 
mangled, dead or dying, in the ditch below. 

Has Corporal Klegg escaped the bloody havoc of the 
conflict ? Has he been found wanting in this supreme-test 
of human courage? Ah, there he is, among the foremost, 
far up the blood-stained slope. His garments have been 
torn by the swift missiles and his hat is gone. As he nears 
the crest he turns for an instant and shouts a word of en- 
couragement to those w^ho are toiling up the bank. Not 
one is less brave than he among all the officers and men 
in that devoted band. 

At the same instant a score gain the summit and leap 



660 WHERE IS SHOKTl ? 

into the very arms of the foe. A moment, and fifty — a 
hundred more, have followed, and the reserves are swarm- 
ing over the crest. Musk'.cs are discharged with deadly 
effect and cruel baj^onets are plunged into quivering bodies. 
Shouts, groans and mad yells and curses are commingled 
in hideous uproar. 

The onslaught is irresistible. The Confederates fling 
down their arms and yield themselves prisoners or seek to 
escape by flight. With wild shouts of triumph the vic- 
torious soldiers pursue the fleeing enemy. At other points 
the long Confederate line has been broken and the entire 
hostile army is in complete rout. Dozens of cannon and 
battle-flags are taken, and prisoners by hundreds and 
thousands. The triumphant soldiers, with prodigious 
yells, keep up the pursuit until many fall to the ground in 
utter exhaustion. 

After entering the fort Si had missed his faithful comrade, 
but in the all-absorbing rush and excitement there had 
been no opportunity to look for him or inquire after his 
welfare. Shorty was at his side when the 200th Indiana 
charged over the open ground and up to the abattis. He was 
sure that they must have been separated in the wild con- 
fusion, and that he would find his pard when the fight was 
over. As soon as the regiment halted Si began to look 
about and to ask, with constantly increasing anxiety, for 
tidings of his friend. No one knew what had become of 
Shorty. 

A detail was sent back to the fort to look after the dead 
and wounded. Si eagerly volunteered for this duty, that 
he might search for his friend who, if a brother, could not 
have been more dear to him. He felt a keen pang at the 
thought that perhaps the one who had so long been his 
constant companion wa,s lying — dead, or wounded and 
suffering. No ; it could not, it must not be ! How his heart 
throbbed as his hurrying feet neared the scene of the dread- 
ful struggle ! 



si's search for his pard. 661 

Within the fort lay bodies of friend and foe, where thej 
had fallen in the strife for the mastery. Si went from 
one to another of those clad in blue, looking upon the dis- 
torted and discolored features, now and then gently turn 
ing one that la^- with face hidden. Here and there he 
recognized, wnth tear-dimmed eyes, a brave comrade who 
had gone down before the blast of death, but the one he 
sought was not there. 

"Won't somebody give me a drink of water ! " 

It was a brave boy of Company Q, who lay with a shat- 
tered leg, beside one of the guns. Si dropped upon his 
knees and placed his canteen to the parched lips. 

"Thank ye. Si," said the sufferer, "that makes me feel 
better. Didn't we go for 'em ?" 

"We did, fer a fact !" replied Si, as he picked up a blanket 
and placed it under the head of his comrade. "Jest be 
quiet a bit 'n' we'll take care on ye. But — do ye know 
anything 'bout — Shorty? I hain't seen him — sence the 

figiit." 

"I can't tell ye where he is. He helped me to climb out 
o' the ditch, an' that 's the last I seen of him. I hope, fer 
your sake, pard, he didn't git hurt." 

Si passed over the wall of the fort and down the slope, 
examining the motionless forms that lay about, but he 
did not find the missing one. The pain that was growing 
in his heart found relief for an instant in the thought that 
Shorty might be a prisoner. But he remembered that in 
such a fight it was scarcely possible for them to lose by 
capture, and the burden of anxious fear lay heavy uj^on 
him as he leaped into the ditch to continue the sad search. 

The dead and the desperately wounded lay thickly here. 
The earth was crimsoned by the streams that had flowed 
from heroes' veins. Si had not long to look. There are 
many survivors of the war who can appreciate — for such 
arrows pierced t/?e/r hearts — the bitter anguish that thrilled 
him as his eyes fell upon the face and form of his prostrate 



662 THE PULSE IS FOREVER STILL. 

comrade. There was no sound nor movement to give 
sign of life. The clothing was reddened with blood. 

** Shorty! " he said, convulsiveW, as he knelt beside him, 
clasping in one of his own the nerveles'^ hand that lay 
across the breast, and with the other pressing the clammy 
forehead. "Shorty!" he repeated, in tremulous tones 
thatconveyed a wealth of tenderness and affection, "can't 
ye speak a word to me, pard ? Can t ye jest open yer ej^es 
'n' look at me?" Tears flowed unchecked down the face 
of Si, as he pressed the unresponding hand, and gently 
smoothed the face of his comrade The feebly fluttering 
pulse told that the spark of life had not 3^et gone out. 

The warm, tender touch revived the dying soldier. He 
opened his e\^es, already dimmed b}- the film of death. He 
gazed into the face of Si and a faint smile of recognition 
lighted up the pallor upon brow and cheek. His lips 
moved as if he would speak, but no sound reached Si's 
straining ear. 

"Dear Shorty" — and Si's words came heavily as the 
tears flowed afresh — "ye mustn't die! Don't leave me, 
pard ! Here, take a drink out o' my canteen." 

"Si," said Shorty, in a slow, feeble whisper, ''did — we — 
get— the— fort?" 

"Course we did," replied Si, "I knew we would when 
we started fer it. Now I want ye ter cheer up 'n' we'll git 
ye out o' here. Ye've got ter git well o' this ! " 

His comrade had recognized and spoken to him, and Si's 
heart throbbed with a brief happiness, born of the hope 
that Shorty would not die. But even then the eyes had 
closed to open not again, and the pulse was forever still. 
It was some minutes before Si could believe that Shorty 
was dead. He knelt long beside the lifeless body, clasping 
the stiffening hand. The realization of his bereavement 
brought upon his tender heart a crushing weight of grief 
that he had never known, and that only time could 
lighten. 



THE SOLITARY MOURNER. 



663 



With choking voice SI asked two or three of his comrades 
to assist him in Hfting Shorty's body out of the ditch. 
They bore it to a grassy spot, under a spreading tree, 
which Si chose for his companion's resting-place. 

"He's mine," said Si, " 'n' 1*11 bury him ! " 

Procuring a shovel he dug a grave. An unspeakable 
sadness filled his heart as, with the help of another, he 
gently wrapped the body in a blanket, and they lowered 
it into the ground. 

" I wish ther' was 
some preacher here," he 
said, " to say sich a j/h 
prayer 's Shorty de- J^/w' 
sarves. 'Tain't a Chris- 
tian way to kiver him 
up 'thout nothin' bein' 
said!" 

Si hesitated a mo- 
ment, and then kn-^ 
beside the open gra 
and reverently repeati 
the Lord's prayer. 

"That's the best I kin; 
do, ''he said. "Mypard 
wa'n't a saint, 'cordin' ''' 
as folks jedges 'em, but 
I hope God '11 take him up to heaven. If ther 'don't nowuss 
people 'n' him git thar it '11 be a good 'nuff place fer me! " 

Then Si softly covered from sight the bod\' of his com- 
rade. He rudely carved with his knife a piece of board 
and placed it at the head. It bore the inscription : 




HE WAS MY PARD. 



vSHORTY 
Co Q 200th Ind. 

HE WAS MY PARD. 



CHAPTER XLVII. 

The End Comes at Last, and Si Puts Off the Army Blue. 

THERE w^as no more fighting for the 200th Indiana. 
The rebel army whose guns it had so often faced 
was routed and scattered as no other army had been dur- 
ing the war. As an aggressive force it had almost passed 
out of existence. Its torn and battered fragments were 
gathered and transported to a distant field of operations, 
but they took small part in the closing events of the 
mighty struggle. 

For some months the 200th was engaged in lazily guard- 
ing the railroads against imaginary foes, moving about 
from place to place, seemingly with no other purpose than 
to promote digestion. 

Si grieved long and sorely over the death of Shorty. 
The sorrow of a bereaved husband or wife w^as nevermore 
sincere and poignant than that of Corporal Klegg for his 
heroic and helpful pard. He did not realize until he was 
gone how much he had leaned upon Shorty, and how he had 
been strengthened and comforted, through trial and suffer- 
ing, by the companionship. For a time he was inconsola- 
ble, but the passing weeks and months gently assuaged the 
bitterness of his affliction. There were few of his comrades 
who had not also been called to mourn the death of those 
near and dear, and he knew it was the part of a good 
soldier to bear with resignation the manifold trials that 
fell to his lot. Gradually his wonted cheerfulness returned, 

664 



THE CEDAR FIRE. ^^^ 



bat faithfulness to the memory of Shorty would not per- 
^Tthim to seek another "pard." It seemed to hun sa - 
rikge-as when Hymen elasps new ties over a freshly made 
J^ave The daily round of duty in eamp and the ehang- 
L seene. of the mareh diverted his mindfrom h,s bereave- 
"fnt. but he never sat down to his coffee and craekers, or 
Xd himself in his blanket at night, w.thout a lonely , 
feeling that clouded his heart with sadness 

Oneeveningthe members of thehttle bandthatremamed 
of the 200th Indiana were gathered around the blaz.ng 
camp-fires. Dry cedar rails were plenty and there was no 
rest aint upon their use. The fangs of the orders ag^mst 
fora^^ing had long since been drawn, and hose once 
sonorous proclamations lay idle and meamngless m the 
order-books of the generals. ,-,,,„ 

Cedar rails were the soldier's favorite fuel, particularly 
when the weather was cool and a quick, warm fire was 
wanted . Nothing else responded to the match so promptly 
and furiously, with a roaring bla.e that speedily tempered 
the chilliest air, and diffused comfort and cheer throughout 
the camp. The only fault of the cedar fire was the con- 
stant cracking and snapping, almost as loud as a volley 
of pistol shots, that scattered the glowing coals over a 
raiiU of manv feet. Millions of holes were burned m 
clothing, blankets and tents during the war by the sparks 
and bluing fragments that shot from heaps of cedar rails^ 
But this annoving characteristic was freely forgiven and 
when going into bivouac on a cold or stormy night, the 
soldiers pitched their yells in a higher key if they found 
that the adjacent fences were of cedar. 

On the evening in question the men piled high the crack- 
ling fires and circled around them in fine spirits. They 
had potatoes and chickens galore, for that >^ect,on of 
country had not been overrun and devastated by the 
hostile armies, and many of the boys had recently received 
from the North a fresh supply of "fac-sim.le money. This 



666 FLUSH TIMES WITH THE BOYS. 

was simply counterfeit Confederate currency. Perhaps it 
could scarcely be called "counterfeit, "in the sense in which 
the word is usually applied to spurious money, for it was 
intrinsically worth as much — a cent a pound for old paper 
^— as was the so-called money of the alleged Southern Con- 
federacy. The "fac-simile" bills, in denominations of from 
■five to five hundred dollars, were printed in prodigious quan- 
tities by enterprising men in the North, and sold at the rate 
of about twenty-five cents for a thousand "dollars." It was 
a fairimitation of the cheap and poorly engraved stuff that 
was issued by the government at Richmond. Bushels and 
bushels of the counterfeit bills were sent down to the army 
and found a ready market among the soldiers, few of 
whom were disturbed in their seared and leathery con- 
sciences. If they argued the cjuestion at all, they had no 
difiiculty in making themselves believe that it was as 
valuable as the genuine Confederate "money." 

It was largely used to lubricate the wheels of trade with 
ignorant whites and negroes, for chickens, milk, vegeta- 
bles and other "truck." A soldier with his pockets stuffed 
with "fac-simile" was a millionaire, and cared nothing for 
expense, squandering his pelf with the greatest prodigality. 
He would freely give twenty dollars for a canteen of milk, 
or a hundred for a fowl ; while the guileless people who re- 
ceived such enormous prices were deluded with the belief 
that they were accumulating wealth at a bewildering rate, 
and would soon become bloated aristocrats. 

No doubt, judged from a high moral plane, this practice 
could not have been commended, but the need of chickens 
was urgent, and the boys thought they could "buy" them 
with less friction than to steal them. If there was a 
hitch in trade because a citizen objected to taking "fac- 
simi/ee," as he called it, another soldier was promptly at 
hand with a supply of what he said was genuine Confeder- 
ate money, and this was likely to be satisfactory, as only 
an expert could detect the difference. Frequently actual 



AN EVENING "OFF, 



667 



Confederate currency was captured in considerable quan- 
tities and was diffused among the troops. This and the 
'*fac-simile" were largely used in the game of poker. 
Fabulous sums were staked with a recklessness that re* 
calls ante-bellum days on the Mississippi. 

Seated around the snapping fires, the men of the 200th 
Indiana abandoned themselves to jest and laugh and song. 
They told stories and recounted many an incident, gay or 
sad, of their life in the tented field. They exhausted the 




AROUND THE CAMP-FIRE. 



repertoire of army songs. It may well be imagined that 
they sang "with the spirit and with the understanding 
also, "such selections as "Just Before the Battle, Mother,'' 
"Tramp, Tramp, Tramp, the Boys are Marching," "When 
this Cruel War is Over,'' "Kingdom Coming," "W^ake, 
Nicodemus," "Battle Cry of Freedom," and a score oi 
others. 

Then came those rollicking songs which were indigenous 
to the arm\'. They were, in spots, glaringW defective in 
sense, rh^-me ar.d meter, but they were familiar to ever\ 



668 THE ARMY SONGS. 

soldier, from Virginia to Texas. "Dixie" was parodied, 
beginning in this way : 

I wish I was in de land ob cotton, 

Cinnamon seeds and sandy bottom, 

Look awa3^, look away, look aw^ay to Dixie land. 

An epitome of the four years of war was given in the 
following verses — varying somewhat in different parts of 
the army — which went galloping to the tune "When 
Johnny Comes Marching Home." The terse statements of 
fact contained in this song cannot be questioned, how^ever 
much the reader may dissent from the convivial sentiments 
in the closing lines of each verse : 

In eighteen hundred and sixty-one, 

Free-ball '. Free-ball ! 
In eighteen hundred and sixty-one. 

Free-ball ! Free-ball ! 
[n eighteen hundred and sixty-one, 
The war had then but just begun; 
And we'll all drink stone blind, 

Johnny, fill up the bowl! 

In eighteen hundred and sixty -two, 

Free-ball ! Free-ball ! 
In eighteen hundred and sixty-tw^o, 

Free-ball ! Free-ball ! 
In eighteen hundred and sixty-tw^o, 
They first began to put us through, 
And we'll all drink stone blind, 

Johnny, fill up the bowl ! 

In eighteen hundred and sixty-three, 

Free-ball ! Free-ball ! 
In eighteen hundred and sixty-three, 

Free-ball ! Free-ball ! 
In eighteen hundred and sixty-three, 
Abe Lincoln set the niggers free ; 
And we'll all drink stone blind, 

Johnny, fill up the bowl! 

In eighteen himdred and sixty-four, 

Free-ball ! Free-ball ! 
In eighteen hundred and sixty-four, 

Free-ball ! Free-ball ! 



"free and easy." 66^ 

In eighteen hundred and sixty-four 
We all went in for three A-ears more; 
And we'll all drink stone blind, 
Johnny, fill up the bowl! 

There was another, decidedly bacchanalian in its char- 
acter, but which was not as bad as it seems — that is to 
say, it was often sung with great apparent relish by whole 
companies when in a condition of most praiseworthy 
sobriety, and by many who never— in or out of the army, 
on "Saturday night" or at any other time — for a moment 
thought of enforcing the "right" so vehemently declared 
in the opening lines. The first part was sung to the ap- 
propriate tune "We Won't go Home till Morning, "switch- 
ing oflF to ' ' America " at " So say we all of us : " 

And every Saturday night, sir. 
We think we have a right, sir. 
To get most gloriously tight, sir, 
To drive dull care away ! 
To drive dull care away. 
To drive dull care away. 
It's a way that we have in the army. 
It's a way that we have in the army. 
It's a way that we have in the army 
To drive dull care away ! 
So say we all of us. 
So say we all of us. 

So say we all. 

So say we all of us. 

So say we all of us, 

So say we all of us, 

So sa3' we all. 

To ^ursory reader there ma\'' seem to be an unneces 
sary amount of repetition in this, but the words were so 
easily remembered that all could sing it after once hearing 
it; and besides the iteration gave an emphasis to the 
propositions that at once silenced all cavil. By the time 
the soldiers got through singing it, "all of us" were fully 
g.greed . 

It was late when the last song that anybody could think 



670 THE LAST "long ROLL." 

of had been sung. The tension of strict discipHne was 
somewhat relaxed, and more latitude was permitted than 
when in a campaign against the enemy. At length, when 
the oft-replenished fires had burned to embers, the men 
knocked the ashes from their pipes, crept into their " pup " 
tents and lay down. 

An hour passed, and all save the guards were in deep 
sleep. Suddenly the sharp rattle of the long rolf was 
heard, mingled with the blast of bugles, as one after an- 
other took up the alarm. And such a long roll it was! 
The drummers pounded as if for their lives, and the 
buglers blew their most piercing notes. 

The startled soldiers came tumbling out of their tents, 
dragging their muskets after them and buckling on their 
accouterments as they ran. In half a minute the com- 
panies were formed and were hurrying at a double-quick 
out to the color-line. It was a moonless night, and the 
darkness of the oak wood was but feebly dispelled by the 
flickering light of the smoldering fires. Everybody won- 
dered what was the matter. It had been supposed that 
there was no armed force of the enemy within a hundred 
miles, but the only thought suggested by the wild alarm 
was that an attack was imminent. Every ear was 
strained to catch the sound of shots on the picket-line, 
but nothing was heard save the turmoil of the assembling 
troops, and the hoarse voices of the officers as they gave 
the necessary commands. It was a moment of anxious 
suspense. 

An orderly from brigade headquarters dashed up and 
handed a message to the colonel of the 200th Indiana, 
who read it by the dim light of a fagot. LeajDing high in 
the air he gave a yell that an Apache chief might strive in 
vain to rival. The men thought he had gone crazy. When 
he came down he discharged another yell, and then hand- 
ing the paper to the wondering adjutant told him to read 
it to the regiment. The adjutant glanced at it and yelled 



A FOREST FULL OF LUNATICS. 671 

a duet with the colonel. Then he read an official copy of a 
telegram from the secretary of war, announcing 

THE SURRENDER OF LEE's ARMY. 

If the inmates of a score of lunatic asylums had been 
suddenly turned loose in those Tennessee woods the scene 
could not have been more ragingl^v tempestuous than that 
which followed the reading of this dispatch. Officers and 
men danced and hugged one another and shouted and 
yelled, rending the air with every kind of sound within the 
<;ompass of human voices well practiced in the making of 
noises. These men had done a good deal of yelling before, 
but never anything that could be compared to this hideous 
din. 

When the noise had partially subsided, from sheer ex- 
haustion of the vocal forces, the soldiers began to cast 
about for other means to continue the racket. It mattered 
little what it was — the more discordant the better — only so 
thatit helped to swell the unearthly chorus. The}- tramped 
about beating furiously with sticks and stones all the 
camp-kettles and tin pans and cans that the camp afforded. 
All the brass bands in the division were playing but no- 
body could distinguish a tune. On all sides were heard 
the shriek of fifes and rattle of drums, and the buglers 
almost blew their heads off in their efforts to contribute 
to the prodigious uproar. One regiment after another be- 
gan to fire muskets. The men took the cartridges from 
their boxes, poured in the powder, rammed down the paper 
for wadding and blazed away. The balls the\' threw 
upon the ground ; there was no further use for them. The 
artillery opened, and battery after battery sent forth its 
thunders to echo amongthe mountains. The fires, heaped 
with wood, blazed high and the forest \vas aglow. 

Men did ever3^thing imaginable that was grotesque 
and ridiculous. They climbed trees and yelled from the 
branches; they made heroic speeches fron:> logs and stumps; 



672 ADDING FUEL TO I'HE FLAME. 

they turned tlieir garments inside out ; they rode one an- 
other on poles — and all the time yelling like maniacs. 

Then there came an order from the general commanding 
for the issue of a double ration of "commissary" to all the 
soldiers. Many excellent people would no doubt say that 
this was a highly reprehensible thing for the general to do. 
Probabl}^ it w^as, and the men ought to have poured it 
upon the ground instead of down their throats- -but the_> 
didn't. This was before the days of the temperance crusade, 
and the provocation was extraordinary. If there ever 
was, since the world was created, a valid excuse for a tem- 
porary lapse from sobriety, that occasion furnished it. 
Years of toiling and suffering such as others know not; 
of w^eary marches and lonely vigils, in summer's heat and 
winter's storm ; of facing the cruel missiles of war, amidst 
scenes of death and human anguish ; years that had 
thinned regiments of a thousand men down to a hundred 
— all were past, the end had come, and before the eyes of 
those scarred and war-worn veterans were blessed pictures 
of peace and home. It is not possible for mortal man, ex- 
cept he w^as one of them, to understand and appreciate the 
thoughts that filled their hearts. Is it any w^onder that 
they indulged in these wald and extravagant demonstra- 
tions of joy? Above personal feeling were the conscious- 
ness of victory at last, after all the blood and wretched- 
ness, and the patriotic rejoicing over a nation saved by 
their valor and sacrifices. Let him who would cast a stone 
at those who behaved so boisterously that night, be sure 
that he would not have made a fool of himself for the 
time being, had he been there. 

At the brigade headquarters a horse-bucket full of egg- 
nog was made, and the general and his staff indulged in 
copious libations. After several "rounds" they sallied 
forth, took possession of the instruments of the band, and 
formed for a parade through the camp. The general 
headed the procession with the bass drum, which he 



TIDINGS THAT MADE SAD HEARTS. 



67.; 



pounded so furiously that he broke in the heads. The 
staff officers blew ear-splitting blasts upon the horns tliej 
carried. As the j marched around, regimental and company 
officers and hundreds of soldiers fell in behind, until the 
column of howling lunatics was a quarter of a mile long. 
All night the "jamboree " was continued, and the morning 
sun looked upon hundreds still engaged in "celebrating," 
with unflagging 
zeal.* 

The next day 
came the bale- 
ful tidings that 
President Lin- 
coln had been as- 
sassinated. The 
revulsion of feel- 
ing cannot be de- 
scribed. Thou- 
sands of strong 
men, whose eyes 
had long been 
unused to tears, 
wept like chil- 
dren when the 
news, which they 
at first refused to 
believe, was fully leading the jamroree. 

confirmed, and they knew that "Father Abraham," whose 
name had been a thousand times upon their lips, in 
song and story, had been stricken down by the hand of a 
murderer. 




* The foregoing is a feeble description of a scene in the camp of the 
Fourth Corps, in which the -writer participated to the utmost of his lung 
power, on that memorable night in April, 1S65. There are yet manj' liv- 
ing who will testify to the fact that the picture here drawn falls far short 
of the reality. 



674 



THE 200TH INDIANA DISCriARGED. 



A few weeks later the remnant of the 200th Indiana was 
ordered to be discharged. At the capital of the state the 
survivors were paid and mustered out of the service. The 
tattered and faded flags of the regiment were deposited 
in the State House, and the men who had so grandly 
followed them were feasted and honored by a grateful 
people. 

Few of the discharged veterans went home with their 
"soldier clothes "on. Nearlyall bought comjolete outfits of 
citizen's garb, discarding the blue garments that they had 

so long and honorably 
worn, but \vhich they 
hoped never to put on 
again. 

Si Klegg was not yet 
of age. His tanned face 
bore abundant' testi- 
mony to his long ex- 
posure to the elements, 
but when he was shorn 
and shaven, and array- 
ed in a new suit of 
clothes -vv'ith all the 
trimmings, he was as 
fine-appearing a fello-w 
as one could wish to 
AFTER A VISIT TO THE TAILOR. scc. A grcat happiucss 

filled his breast when those of the little squad that re- 
mained of Compan}^ left for home. The parting was 
not without sadness, for few ties on earth are as strong as 
those that bind the hearts of men who so long marched 
and fought and suffered together. But he was going 
home, conscious that he had acted well his part, and had 
done what one man could to bring the final victory. Si 
Klegg was but an atom of the mighty army; but it was 
the united efforts and sacrifices of a million such as he that 




COMPANY O'S WELCOME HOME. 675 

overthrew the rebellion anc* saved the nation from dis- 
memberment. 

The "Company boys" received an overpowering wel- 
come at home. The people of the village and from the 
adjacent country turned out en masse to greet them as 
they alighted from the train. Farmer Klegg and his wife 
and Maria, proud and eager, were there; and joj^ful tears 
flowed unchecked as thc}^ twined their arms around son 
and brother and pressed him to their beating hearts. An- 
nabel was there, with moist e^-es and a flush upon her soft 
cheek. Si had growii brave now, and as soon as the 
famih' embrace relaxed he advanced and put his arms 
around her as unflinchingly as if she had been a rebel 
battery. 

Tumultuous cheers rent the air, the band pla\^ed and 
banners waved in honor of the soldiers returned from the 
war. A sumptuous dinner was served to them inthetown- 
hall, and the village orators exhausted their eloquence in 
giving them welcome and glorif)'ing their deeds of valor. 
By the time the speakers got through, the veterans were 
pretty w^ell convinced that if it had not been for Com- 
pany Q the war would have been a failure — on the Union 
side. 

Then the bo^^s \vere taken in charge by their respective 
friends. In anticipation of Si's return, his mother and 
sister had for da3's done little except cook, and he found 
himself in a land flowing with milk and honey. 

That night Si had the "best bed " in the house. As he 
threw himself upon it he sank down in a sea of feathers 
that almost covered him. Of course he could not sleep in 
such a bed, and in the morning, when his mother went to 
call him to breakfast, she was amazed to find him lying on 
the floor. 

"Tell ye what 'tis, mother," he said, "I didn't like ter 
go back on yer nice bed, but 'twa'n't no use. I swum 
'round 'n them feathers purty much all night, but I 



676 "the 'union' forever." 

couldn't git ter sleep t'll I bunked down on the floor. 
That's a leetle more like the beds I slep' on 'n the army. 
I b'lieve t'night I'll rig up a pup-tent, put down some rails 
ter lie on, 'n' take mj old U. S. blanket 'n' crawl in. Then 
ef you 'n' father 'n' Marier '11 jest git a gun apiece 'n' keep 
shootin' purty cluss to me all night, I kin git a good 
squar' sleep." 



CHAPTER XLVIII. 

Si Finds it Much Easier to Get Married than to Get a Pension. 

IT is scarcely necessary to say that Si Klegg and Annabel 
were soon "mustered in." Thc}^ fell early victims to 
the malignant connubial epidemic that devastated the 
ranks of the soldiers and sweethearts for two or three 
years immediately following the war. The parents of 
both thought they were "ower young to marry yet," but 
their feeble opposition on this score quickly melted away 
before the fierce heat of affection's fires in those j'oung 
hearts. So parental objections were waived and there was 
a wedding. 

Most of the voung soldiers began, as soon as thev were 
discharged, to think about getting married. They had 
fairly earned the right to enjoy the pleasures of wedded 
life, under their own vines and fig trees. They seemed to 
have little difficulty in finding "pards," and everywhere 
was heard a joyous chorus of marriage-bells. 

During his last year or two in the arni}^ Si had had fe\v 
dealings with the sutler, and had strictly kept his promise 
to Shorty not to play "chuck-a-luck," so that with his vet- 
eran and local bounties he managed to save a few hundred 



SI BECOMES A "COLONEL." 677 

dollars. This sum, comfortably augmented by marriage 
portions, enabled him to buy a small farm, on which he 
and Annabel entered upon a quiet and uneventful life. 

Si was more fortunate in this respect than thousands of 
his fellow-soldiers who — even though not impaired in iiealth 
or disabled by wounds — found themselves thrown upon 
their own resources, at a great disadvantage as compared 
with those who had remained at home. They had given 
years to the service of their country, just at the age 
when they would otherwise have been fitting themselves 
by education and business training to fight their way 
in the scramble for position and wealth; and now their 
previous plans were deranged or wholly broken up. 

Promotion was much more rapid in civil life, after the 
war, than in the army. People soon began to call Si 
"Captain," then "Major,"' and in a year or two he was 
addressed as "Colonel." This galloping advancement in 
rank was ver}^ general, until there seemed to be no privates 
or corporals left. A stranger would have supposed that 
the enlisted men were all killed in the w^ar, or that the 
army w^as made up in accordance with the suggestion of 
the late " Artemus Ward," who, in 1861, proposed to or- 
ganize a company composed entirely of brigadier-generals. 

For a time after laying off his uniform Si Klegg had the 
feeling- common to the disbanded volunteers — the verv sight 
of blue clothes was hateful to him. He was thoroughly 
disgusted with "soldiering" and tired of the war; he 
never wanted to hear of it again. But as the years passed 
on memory recalled with constantly increasing vividness 
the scenes of the past, and awakened in his heart a yearn- 
ing to once more grasp the hands and look into the faces 
of his old comrades — those who marched by his side, and 
with whom he touched elbows as the 200th Indiana faced 
the battle storm. A few of his fellow-soldiers of Company 
Q had remained in the neighborhood, but nearly all the 
members of the reg^iment were scattered to the four winds. 



678 



A REUNION OF THE 200TH. 



Si was rejoiced one clay when he saw a call for a reuniofS 
of the survivors of the 200th. His work was pressing, 
but he told his wife that the farm would have to run itself 
for two or three days; he was going to that reunion if 
they had to live on hardtack and — bacon all winter. He 
told Annabel that she and the children must go, too — for 
by this time there was a thriving crop of infantry that 
gave promise of being ready for the next war. 

So they all went to the reunion. The veterans 
^^; ' , ^^ came from far and 

•A ^^^iifi^l^l;/ A,"% . 1 near,respondingto 

the summons as 
promptly as they 
did so many times 
when drum and bu- 
gle called them to 
duty. Tears moist- 
ened their eyes as 
thc}^ met again 
and clasped one 
another in their 
sturdy arms. 

The veterans 
sang the old war 
songs and fought 
their battles over 
around the camp- 
fire, and their wives 
and children en- 
joyed it almost as much as they did. Some of those 
who never smelt powder or heard a bullet whistle told 
the biggest stories — just as they have been doing at 
every gathering of soldiers since the war. Strident ora- 
tors, whose courage never rose to the point of enlistment, 
at all — of that class aptly described as " invincible in peace, 
invisible in war" — talked long and vehemently, trying to 




THE NEW CROP OF INFANTRY. 



"CATCHING THE SOLDIER VOTE." 679 

instruct the old-soldiers in lessons of patriotism and valor. 
The "boys" — for so they still called one another — had such 
a good time, that with a tremendous and unanimous 
"aj^e" they voted to hold a reunion every year. These 
meetings bound together even more closely than before the 
hearts of the comrades. 

The war had not long been over until the politicians, 
irrespective of party, began to bait their hooks to "catch 
the soldier vote." Emment patriots, who, yielding to the 
importunities of their fe'dow-citizens, had consented to be- 
come candidates for office, often called around to see 
"Colonel " Klegg and secure, if possible, his ballot and his 
influence in their behalf They talked grandly of their love 
and admiration for the brave defenders of the flag, and 
made picturesque promises what they would do for those 
who so faithfully served their country. These promises 
were usually forgotten as soon as the polls closed on election 
day; nor were they recalled by these men with defective 
memories until another political campaign made it neces- 
sary to scratch around again for votes. Si felt a laudable 
interest in the welfare of his country'-, and like a good citizen 
he marched in torchlight processions and yelled himself 
hoarse at mass-meetings and barbecues. He swung his 
hat and shouted when the election returns showed majori- 
ties for his side; and when the other fellows came out 
ahead he mourned because the country was "going to the 
dogs," and he had fought and bled in vain. But the ship 
of state kept on her course just the same, and he found it 
really made little difference which political party was at the 
helm. 

Not one in ten thousand of the two and a half million 
men, who so promptly responded to their country's call in 
the day of her calamity, paused to inquire whether he 
would be pensioned in case he should be disabled bv 
wounds or disease. When Si Klegg signed the roll of 
Company Q he did not even know what a pension was.. 



680 SI THINKS ABOUT A PENSION, 

He knew only that the government needed his services, 
and he offered them freely, without a thought of t!i2 
future. 

Si came out of the war in good condition, so far as 
surface indications went. His physical vigor was seem- 
ingly unimpaired, and his friends said his army life had 
" made a man of him." His wound had not disabled him, 
although it continued to give him trouble at times. As 
long as he was able to make his way in the world he 
refused to entertain the idea of being a pensioner. 

But as the years went by he began to grow prematurely 
old — as did nineteen out of every twenty men who endured 
so much. Every now and then Congress passed some new 
pension bill, and each enactment was closelj^ followed by a 
bombardment of circulars from three or four dozen attor- 
neys, in all parts of the country, assuring Si that he was 
entitled to its benefits, and offering to undertake his case 
for a consideration. At length he began to think about it 
in a serious way. He heard a good deal about the over- 
flowing vaults of the United States treasury. The govern- 
ment seemed to have more money than it knew what to 
do with, and Si felt that he had borne an humble part 
in bringing the country into such a condition of bound- 
less prosperity. But for the sufferings and sacrifices of 
such as he the Nation — with a big N — would have long 
since ceased to exist, and in its stead would have been 
several little nations, unworthy of capital letters. Wh_y 
should not the government, rich and prosperous and 
powerful, secure him and Annabel and the little Kleggs 
against want, if so be that early decrepitude should 
result from his years of service in the army ? 

When Si heard some people grumble because such large 
amounts were paid each year for pensions, and heard 
them denounce the soldiers as "coffee coolers," "beggars" 
and "dead beats," it only awakened in him a feeling of 
pity for their ignorance and narrow-mindedness. He 



AND GOES TO SEE AN AGENT. 681 

heard such expressions from none except persons who 
stayed at home during the war, some of whom grew rich 
out of army contracts. 

For a time Si Klegg prospered, but at length reverses 
came. One year a drouth burned up his grain, the next 
floods drowned it, and the next it was devoured b}^ flies, 
grasshoppers, locusts and chinch-bugs. Little b}^ little his 
health gave way. The seeds of disease that were insidi- 
ously sown during those months and years of exposure to 
the elements, sprang up and brought forth a crop of ills 
that in course of time almost unfitted him for manual 
labor. He began to find it necessary to wear patched 
clothes. His wife was obliged to "make over "her dresses. 
The children began to get " out " at the elbows and knees 
and toes, and when the circus made its periodical visit 
they had to stay at home, provided they could not crawl 
under the canvas. 

Then Si said: "I believe I'm as much entitled to a 
pension as anybody else, and I'll see see if I can make 
Uncle Sam think so." He did not then know how dull of 
comprehension "Uncle Sam" is, sometimes. 

So one da}^ he drove to a neighboring town to see a pen- 
sion agent, who had sent him half a bushel of circulars 
during the previous ten years. From the perusal of these 
he had come to believe that all he had to do in order to 
get a pension was to ask for it. 

"Let's see, "said the agent, briskl}^ "what kind of a case 
-we can make out for you. Been wounded ? " 

Si bared his arm and showed him an ugly scar. 

"Mule kick ? " asked the agent. 

"No, sir!^^ replied Si, with some asperity. "Piece o' 
shell, the day the 200th Injianny went up the ridge." 

"That's good — twenty dollars a month for that. Got 
any 'rumaticks,' from lying around on the ground? " 

"Plenty of 'em." 

"Good again; they're worth ten dollars a month more " 



682 HE MAKES AN APPLICATION. 

By the time they got through with the list of his ail- 
ments Si began to think he would be a millionaire in a few 
years. 

The agent said he was very busy that day but he would 
give him a blank application to fill out which he promised 
to forward directly to Washington. 

When Si got home he thought he would go over and talk 
with one of his neighbors — a veteran comrade w4io had 
succeeded in getting his claim through the government 
"circumlocution office," and was drawing a pension. Si 
thought his friend's counsel and assistance, based upon his 
own experience, might be of service in preparing the papers. 

Together they filled out the application. Si hunted up 
a magistrate, made oath to it in due form and mailed it 
to the attorne\^ Then, in the course o. a couple of weeks 
he began to look for his pension. He thought that a week 
ought to be abundant time to decide a case so clear as his, 
and two or three days each way were a liberal allowance 
for the mails to do their part of the work. 

But day after day passed and Si heard nothing from 
Washington. At the end of a month he began to grow 
fidgety over it, and called again upon his neighbor to ask 
him what could cause such long delay. The latter, re- 
membering his own tribtilations, laughed to himself, but 
was loth to cast a shadow over Si's life by telling him that 
he would be fortunate if he got his claim through in three 
or four years. 

"Better go and see your agent," he said, "mebbe he 
needs to be stirred up with a sharp stick." 

So Si took another "day off" and drove over to call upon 
his attorney. To his dismay he found that his application 
was lying in a pigeon-hole, not having been sent to Wash- 
ington yet. The agent said he had forgotten it, in the 
multiplicity of his business cares. Si gave him "a piece of 
his mind" — the whole of it, in fact — and the agent prom- 
ised to lose no time in rushino; it along. 



WANTED, A "HOSPITAL RECORD." 683 

Then Si went home and waited again. As the weeks 
passed he wrote several times to his attorney asking 
about it but wnthout ehciting any reply. At length he 
determined to "blow him up," and wrote that he believed 
he w^ould take the case out of his hands and try some 
other agent. Then the agent wrote, telling him with some 
warmth that he need not expect to crowd matters; the 
officials at Washington were very leisurely in their waySj 
and it would probably take him as long to get his pension 
as it did to earn it. 

This was discouraging to Si. It seemed to him as though 
the government cared nothing for him, after it no longer 
needed his services. But there seemed to be no other way, 
and he settled himself down for a long job of waiting. 

Six months later, when he had almost forgotten that he 
had ever applied for a pension, the post-master Landed him 
a big letter w^hich he saw at a g'ance was from ni3 attor- 
ney. His heart gave a great bound, for he was sure that at 
last his pension had come, and he had no doubt it was a 
liberal one. With a smile upon his face he tore open the en- 
velope and found — a lot of blanks, with a demand from the 
Pension Office for his "hospital record." 

That evening he went over to see his neighbor about it. 

"Haven't j^ou got a good hospital record? "the latter in- 
quired, after Si had showm him the papers. 

"That 's what I hain't got, pard,*' replied Si. "I never 
was in the hospital only jest that night arter the fight. I 
reck'nthedocters had all they could 'tend to 'thoutspendin' 
no time keepin' records. The gin'ral sent me a furlough the 
next day and I came home for a spell. All the rest o' the 
time I was carryin' a musket 'long 'th the rijiment." 

"That's bad," said his comrade, "but I had the same 
sort of trouble, myself. The people at Washington take 
lots of stock m a good hospital record. It helps mightily 
in getting a pension. A month in a hospital, even if you 
wa'n't very sick, counts more 'n three years of trampin' an* 



684 WHAT SI OUGHT TO HAVE DONE. 

fightin', at the front. If I ever go into another war I'm 
going to stub my toe or something, if I can't get hurt any 
other way, just to get back to the hospital long enough 
to make a 'record.' Of course we didn't know anything 
about these things then, but I'll be sharp enough for 'em 
next time. " 

All that Si could do was to write a statement that he 
had no hospital record, and setting forth the reasons why 
such was the fact. It took six months more for the Pen- 
sion Bureau to digest this, and then Si got another letter. 
This time he did not allow his emotions to get the advan- 
tage of him. He opened it with a vague hope that it had 
brought him what he wanted, but really finding what he 
expected — more blanks, and a requisition for further infor- 
mation. He must get the certificate of the surgeons who 
dressed his wound, and who treated him at various times 
for the diseases which resulted in his disability. 

"I don't know what I'm goin' to do," he said to his 
neighbor, whom he regarded as his sheet-anchor for advice 
and assistance. "I never did take much medicine in the 
army, only jest once 'n a while when me and Shorty 
wanted to play off from fatigue duty. The doctor that 
dressed my wound, he moved away, to Patagonia or some- 
where, a good many years ago, and I don't know any 
thing about where he is." 

"You ought to have made him sit right down an' writs; 
out an affidavit an' swar to it that night, as soon as he 
got your wound tied up," replied his friend, with a laugh. 
"I've got a boy growin' up, an' if he ever has to go to war 
I'll put a big flea in his ear." 

"I guess that would have been a good thing," said Si, 
"but the fact is I had my head purty full of somethin' else 
that night, an' I didn't think of it. But that would 've 
been a nice place for a doctor to be makin' out papers, 
wouldn't it— he a-sawin' an' cuttin' legs and arms and the 
ground covered with men groanin' and dyin' all around 



MORE AFFIDAVITS. 685 

him? It'dbe a fine thing for him to let '::m die and go 
to makin' out affidavits ! " 

Acting upon his friend's suggestion Si went again to see 
his agent, who told him the surgeon's testimony would be 
valuable, and he had better try and find where he was. 

During the next few months Si found plenty of amuse- 
ment for his leisure time in writing to every old member 
of the 200th Indiana he could hear of, in the hope of get- 
ting some trace of the lost doctor, squandering an acre of 
his wheat in stationery and postage-stamps, but without 
success. He informed his agent, who after a while com- 
municated the fact to the Commissioner of Pensions. 

It took the usual time to unwind the red-tape and untie 
the knots, and then another lot of blanks was sent to Si, 
with instructions to get the affidavits of his company 
officers, or of some of his comrades who personally knew? 
all the circumstances. 

Again Si called upon his friend. "I don't see," he said, 
"why them fellers can't b'lieve what IVe told 'em. I don't 
think anybody 't knows Si Klegg 'd have any idee he'd lie 
'bout such a thing and sw'ar to it besides." 

"Fact is," replied his neighbor, "they think every soldier 
tells the biggest kind of whoppers, an' every man's affida- 
vit has to be propped up by a lot more or they won't go a 
cent on it. You've got to prove that jon ain't lyin'. 
It 's tough, but you'll find it 's true. ' Tain' t no use to kick 
agin the United States Government." 

"But I'm afeard I cant get 'em. One of our officers was 
killed in that fight when I was wounded, and the other 
that was there has died sence the war. The pension folks 
can't get any testimony out o' them unless they're fust- 
class mejums. I reck'n sperits ain't no good at Washing- 
ton—leastwise not that kind. All the boys is scattered 
'from Dan to Beersheba.' " 

"I reckon you'd better try an' hunt some of 'em up, if 
you can't get at any of the officers. It takes two or three 



686 INFORMATION WANTED AGAIN. 

of them that was only soldiers to count as much as cwie 
officer in giving testimony. I don't believe the boys used 
to lie in the army any worse than the officers did, but the 
government seems to think the officers has all got con- 
verted since the war." 

Then Si buckled down again to the work of writing let- 
ters. Many weeks elapsed before he succeeded, but he 
at length found himself in the possession of an array of 
affidavits from his old comrades that he was sure ought to 
satisfy even so insatiable and exacting a person as his 
Uncle Sam. When he mailed these to his attorney he be- 
lieved they would settle the matter in short order These 
affidavits covered h^^s wound and also full}- set forth the 
hardship and exposure he had endured, which he considered 
ample to account for the diseased condition of his physi- 
cal system. 

With a placid confidence Si patiently awaited the effect 
of this broadside. By the time another section of his hair 
had turned gray he heard again from Washington. The 
envelope did not contain a pension certificate, but a call 
for more affidavits — of all the doctors who had treated 
him since his discharge from the army, setting forth his 
present condition, and why he had permitted his health to 
fail. He must present a schedule setting forth in detail all 
the different kinds of medicine he had taken and the quan- 
tity of each, and what for; ^vitll exemplified copies — to be 
filed as "exhibits" — of all the prescriptions he had had 
filled at drug-stores since the war, these to be accom- 
panied b}' the photographs, autographs and certificates of 
the clerks who filled them, with affidavits proving their 
good character for veracity, and whether they were mar- 
ried or single, and if so, why; also the affidavits of credi- 
ble persons who actually saw Josiah Klegg take, drink, 
swallow, gulp, ingurgitate and absorb, all and singular, 
the doses of such medicine aforesaid alleged to have been 
by him so taken, drank, swallowed, gulped, ingurgitated 



"PRIOR SOUNDNESS." . 687 

and absorbed ; also he was required to state, to a cer- 
tainty, the name of the individual who struck the late 
lamented "Billy Patterson." 

Si had already laid in a considerable stock of experience 
with official circumlocution, so that all this did not sur- 
prise him much. He had ceased to wonder at anything. 
He did all he could to comply with the requirements, sent 
on the affidavits — and waited. 

Months rolled away, and then still another voracious 
demand. Solomon w^rote in Proverbs: "There are three 
things that are never satisfied, yea, four things say not, It 
is enough." If he had written a few jQ3.rs after the Amer- 
ican civil war he w^ouldhave mentioned five things instead 
of four which "are never satisfied," and "say not. It is 
enough." The fifth would have been the United States 
Pension Bureau. 

This time it was a call for proof of "prior soundness." 
Si could not quite comprehend what that meant, and he 
went over and asked his neighbor. 

"Why, that means, "said the latter, in reply to Si's ques- 
tion, "that you've got to prove that you were sound and 
able-bodied when you entered the service." 

" Of course I was — sound as a dollar. It 'd be jest wast- 
in' time to go to provin' that. I never heerd of so much 
nonsense in all my born days. 'Pears like they think at 
Washington that all a man wants is to git his pension m 
time to pay his funeral expenses!" 

"I agree with jq, comrade, but all the same you have to 
do it. The government takes it for granted that everv 
soldier was a weak, puny, sickly thing when he enlisted, and 
would Have petered out if he hadn't gone to the war." 

"The 'listin' officer had a doctor there and he examined 
me from head to foot and said I was in fust-class order." 

"Oh, /2e didn't know nothing about it, of course; and you 
was so fierce for going to help save the country that you 
probably' lied about it — anyhow they think you did, and 



688 SI GETS A PENSION AT LAST, 

you've got to prove that you didn't. You'll have to go back 
and show that your grandfathers and great-grandfathers 
died of old age. Then it will be necessary for you to prove 
that you would not have been taken sick, or bit by a rattle- 
snake or struck by lightning if you had stayed at home 
during the war. You see you might have been killed at 
home, and if so, going to war saved your life and you ought 
to be very thankful for it. The government supposes it did 
you a great favor by giving you the opportunity and the 
privilege of enlisting, and unless you can prove that it 
didn't there won't be much of a show for you ! " 

Si had no difficulty in establishing his "prior soundness." 
The pension authorities could not think of anj-^thing else, 
reasonable or unreasonable, that could be asked for, so 
they devoted a few months to sending ''special" agents 
into the neighborhood, to work "on the sly," and find out 
Si's reputation and his physical condition, that the Bureau 
might reach a conclusion as to whether he and his wit- 
nesses had told the truth or not. 

At last, five years after he had filed his application, he 
got word one day from his agent that his pension had been 
granted. A day or two later he received a letter bearing 
the trade-mark of the Commissioner of Pensions. Has- 
tening home he gathered about him his expectant family, 
broke the seal, and drew out the document that was 
to raise them to a condition of opulence. He began at the 
top and read down till he came to the important point. 
Then they learned that the name of Josiah Klegg, late of 
Company Q, 200th Indiana Veteran Volunteer Infantry, 
had been placed on the pension roll at the rate of one dol- 
lar and seventy-three and three-quarters cents per month! 

Si looked at his wife and she looked at him, and the chil- 
dren looked at one another. He read it again. He won- 
dered if the clerk who filled it out had not made a mistake 
and left out the word "hundred'' after "one." Then he 
did some heavv thinking-. 



BUT IT WILL NOT BUY HIS SALT. 689 

**If they'd only put on that other quarter of a cent," he 
said at length, when he had sufficiently recovered from his 
amazement so that he could speak, "I wouldn't ha' keered. 
Looks as though Uncle Sam was about as poor as I am, 
don't it, wnfe? Let's see" — and Si figured it out — "that '11 
be about twenty dollars a year. If I should live a thou- 
sand years that 'd be twenty thousand dollars ! I wish I 
could live that long, jest to spite the government. I b'lieve 
I'll jest send this pension back an' tell 'em I don't want 
it; and I'll tell 'em that if Uncle Sam 's so hard up he'd 
better pass 'round the hat an' we'll all chip in to help him 
out!" 

Si fully made up his mind to decline the pitiful allowance, 
and went to see his agent to get his assistance in w^riting 
a letter that would raise blisters on every department of 
the government he had fought and bled for. The agent 
told him he had better hang on to it. True it was not 
much, and it would take a year's allowance to pay the 
attorney's fee, but after a while he might get an increase ; 
or, better yet, perhaps a bill could be got through Congress 
that would do him justice. 

After thinking it over Si concluded to reconsider his de- 
cision. He was favorably impressed with the proposition 
to try Congress. The Member from that district had often 
told him — in election campaigns — that he would do any- 
thing for him that lay in his power. Si had an exalted 
idea of the Member's influence in the halls of national 
legislation, and he w^ould see him at once. 

There w^as to be another election that fall and the Mem- 
ber was again a candidate. He told Si it ^vas a shame 
that so worthy a soldier as he should be granted such a 
beggarU^ pittance, and he would introduce a bill the first 
day of the next session. So Si "took off his coat," as the 
politicians say, and labored unceasingly to secure the 
Member's re-election. The result was in accordance with 
his wishes, and he threw his hat in the air when the count 



690 HE TRIES CONGRESS. 

of the votes showed a majority for the Moses who was to 
lead him out of the wilderness. 

Soon after the opening of the ensuing session of Con- 
gress Si received a copy of that thrilhng periodical, the 
Congressional Record. A marked paragraph caught his 
eye, and wnth a palpitating heart he read that a bill had 
been introduced " To increase the pension of Josiah Klegg, 
Company Q, 200th Indiana." This brought happiness to 
Si's heart. With a suMime faith in the Member's magic 
power, he had no doubt that the bill would pass in two or 
three weeks, the vaults of the United States Treasury 
would be opened, and he would be invited to help himself. 

But months passed and he heard no more of his bill. He 
ventured to write to the Congressman about it, and the lat- 
ter said in reply that he was devoting all his energies to the 
herculean task of pushing that bill through — in fact he was 
not doing anything else, giving to it his entire time and 
attention. Thetruth is that probably he had not thought 
of the bill since he introduced it. 

Si believed what the Member told him. He did not know 
that every 3^ear thousands of such bills were thrown into 
the hopper of the congressional mill, to cancel campaign 
obligations, and that not one in twenty of them ever got 
beyond thecapacious pigeon-holes of the committee -rooms. 

For five or six years Si watched that bill. When the next 
election came around the Member called upon Si and pointed 
with pride to the fact that he had introduced the bill ; if he 
was elected again he would certainlj^ get it through — and 
Si "took off his coat " again and yelled for him at the mass- 
meetings. 

During this Congress, having re-introduced the bill, the 
Member shoved it along another peg by getting a favora- 
ble report from the committee. Si felt greatly encouraged 
at this, but his hopes fell again when Congress expired and 
the bill died with it. The work all had to be done over 
a sain. 



HIS BILL PASSES BUT IS VETOED. 691 

Once more Si helped to swell the Members majority and 
then the latter determined to see what he could do. By 
adroit management he contrived to advance the bill rapidly 
and at length got it before the House. He made a speech 
on it, which was "the greatest effort of his life," recounting 
with fervid eloquence the gallant exploits of Corporal Si 
Klegg, and denouncing the parsimony of the government 
toward him. The appeal was irresistible, and the bill 
passed by an overwhelming majority. The Member sent 
a telegram that filled with joy the hearts of the Klegg 
family. 

Feeling that the success of the bill would be a feather in 
his own cap, and a shining example that would greatly 
help him in the next election, the Member spared no effort 
to steer it through the Senate. Securing the interest of 
the senators from that state, they took hold of the matter 
and in due time it passed that body. Another telegram 
went singing over the wires, conveying to Si the glad 
tidings. 

A few days later there was another dispatch, which read : 
"The President has vetoed 3^our bill," and there was woe 
again. Si received by mail a copy of the message which 
set forth in elaborate phrase the reasons why executive 
approval had been withheld. The principal one was that 
no evidence had been adduced to show that Josiah Klegg 
did not receive contributory injuries at the hands of the 
defeated nine, while acting as umpire of a base-ball game. 



"LIGHTS out! 



APPENDIX. 

'^ i ^HIS volume has far outgrown the original purpose of the author. 

A. He found the subject so fruitful that he became panic-stricken as the 
pages multiplied, and "threw overboard" much that he intended should 
have a place. Hundreds of pages could have been added without exhaust- 
ing the theme, however much so ponderous a volume might have exhausted 
the patience of the reader. Notwithstanding his disma}' at the size of 
the book, the writer ventures to add a fe^v pages which will assist 3'oung 
readers and others, who were not soldiers, to understand the organiza- 
tion of the army and some features of the service which did not enter 
into the experience of Corporal Klegg and Shorty. The "veteran " may 
" skip " this if he chooses, but he will no doubt find something to interest 
him in the corps badges and bugle calls, which are given hereafter. 

Since the war there have been many and radical changes in the arms, 
equipments, tactics and regulations of the United States army. What- 
ever this book contains applies to the army as it was during the war. 
The volunteers stood on the same military footing as the soldiers of the 
regular army. Their treatment and service w^ere in all respects the same, 
and there was no difference in their courage or fighting abilities. They 
marched and fought side by side, in honorable rivalry. 

Theoretically there w^as the same happy state of equality so far as the 
regular and volunteer officers w^ere concerned ; practically there was 
usually more or less friction between the two classes. That this should 
have been so is hardly a cause for wonder. Nothing else can be expected 
until the millennial dawn, w^hen "The wolf also shall dwell w^ith the 
lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid ; and the calf and the 
young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them." 
Then there will be no need for either ' ' West Pointers "or volunteers. It is 
not strange that a regular officer — who if not " to the manner born " was 
at least bred to it by years of military study and practice — thought he knew 
more about v^'^ar than one who left the plow, the anvil or the counting- 
room to buckle on the sword ; and that he chafed and grew restive under 
the authority of a volunteer who outranked him. The regulars did not 
comprise more than a fortieth part of the army, though the proportion 
of officers was somewhat greater. 

The unit in the composition of the army was the company organization. 

692 



THE THREE " ARMS " OF THE SERVICE. 693 

A full iiifantr3' company contained, in round ntunbers, one hundred men. 
]t had three commissioned officers — captain, first lieutenant and second 
lieutenant ; and thirteen non-commissioned officers — first or orderly ser- 
geant, four duty sergeants and eight corporals. 

An infantry regiment was composed of ten companies, designated bj' 
lettersfrom AtoK inclusive. The letter J was omitted, on account of the 
confusion that would arise from the similarity in writing, of 1 and J- 
There were a few regiments with but eight companies each, and a few 
with twelve, but very nearly all were organized as above. The field offi- 
cers were colonel, lieutenant-colonel and major, having rank in the order 
given. The regimental staff officers were a surgeon, with the rank of 
major; two assistant surgeons and a chaplain, ranking as captains; ad- 
jutant and quartermaster, with the rank of first lieutenant. There was a 
non-commissioned-staff, consisting of sergeant-major, quartermaster-ser- 
geant, commissary -sergeant, hospital steward and principal musician. A 
/egiment when full to the maximum had thirty-nine commissioned officers, 
and one thousand — more or less — non-commissioned officers and privates. 
In official returns all except the commissioned officers were "lumped" 
as "enlisted men." 

A regiment of cavalry usually contained twelve companies, L and M 
being used in addition to the letters designating the companies of an 
infantry regiment. The general organization was similar to the infantry, 
except that the cavalry regiment was divided into three battalions w^ith 
one major for each. The care of horses also required saddlers, shoers, etc. 

A regiment of artiller\^ consisted of twelve companies or batteries. Each 
battery, usuall3% had six guns, was complete in itself, and in almost all 
casesserved independently. Noregiment of light or field artillery, for obvi- 
ous reasons, served as such, in the same compact sense as a regiment oi 
cavalry or infantr^^ The batteries which composed it were widely scat- 
tered — often in different departments, hundreds of miles apart. Scarcely 
half of the field artillery had a regimental organization at all. There 
were some two hundred and thirty "independent" batteries, so called, 
organized in different states ^nd dul^' nuinbered, as 6th Ohio or 10th New 
York Battery. 

Each of these three branches or " arms " of the militar\- service had its 
distinguishing color — blue for infantry, a'cUow for cavalry and red for 
artillery. The bodj^ of the uniform worn by all Avas blue — the trousers 
light and the blouse dark. The distinctive colors appeared in the corded 
seams, the trimming of the jackets largely worn by the soldiei's of the 
cavalry and artillery', the field of the officers' shoulder-straps, and the 
chevrons of the non-commissioned officers. Artillerymen usualh' w^ore 
upon the front of their caps or hats a brass device representing two can- 
nons crossed, and the cavalr3'men wore crossed sabers. When a man was 
properly dressed it -was easy to tell at a glance to which arm of the ser- 
vice he belonged. 

Five-sixths of the fighting was done by the infantry soldiers. This was 
not because they fought any better, but because there were six times as 



694 CONCERNING CAVALRYMEN. 

in:iuy of them as of the cavah-y and artillery combined. The cavalrj' 
was largeh' employed in scouting, picketing, " raiding " and other impor- 
tant service requiring celerity of movement; the great battles were 
fought chiefly by the heavy masses of infantry. It took two years to 
learn how to use cavalry to the best advantage, and to get a body of 
good riders, inured to the exposure and hardship incident to their pecu- 
liar service. 

During the early part of the war the men who marched with burdened 
backs looked with envious eyes upon the cavalrymen, booted and spurred, 
as they galloped gayly about, w^ith clanking sabers. The "walk sol- 
diers" — or " dough-boys," as the cavalrymen called them — thought that 
those who rode horses had a "soft thing." " Who ever saw a dead ca\ - 
alryman?" was their favorite conundrum — and everybody gave it up. 
But there came a daj'^ when this question was no longer asked — when the 
"yellow jackets" w^ere often seen in the forefront of battle, and the bodies 
of the slain and the wounded thickly covered the ground. After the 
cavalry had become thoroughly seasoned, had learned the art of fighting 
on horseback, and was organized into a distinct aggressive force, it became 
a most important factor in the struggle. The history of the world re- 
cords no more brilliant achievements in war than those of the Union 
cavalry under the leadership of Sheridan, Custer, Wilson, Kilpatrick, 
Buford, Stoneman, Grierson, the Greggs, Averell, Pleasonton, Hatch, 
Torbert and many others. No less can be said of the dashing southern 
horsemen, led by such men as Stuart, John Morgan, Wheeler, Forrest, 
Fitzhugh Lee and Hampton. 

During the last year of the war cavalrymen did much hard, solid fight- 
ing on foot, as infantry, and against infantry. Moving in large bodies 
they were enabled to cover long distances with a speed impossible to in- 
fantry, and strike the enemy at a desired point. Every fourth man, at a 
distance in the rear, held the horses of three comrades who went dis- 
mounted into the fight. Sometimes the horse-holders had more than 
they could well manage, when the enemy tossed a few shells among the 
animals, occasionally stainpeding them in the most effectual manner. In 
1863 and 1864, particularly in the w^estern army, a considerable number 
of infantry regiments w^ere supplied with horses and served as mounted 
infantry. These were chiefly armed with the Spencer repeating rifle, and 
did most excellent service. Well drilled in the tactics of infantry, and 
usually fighting as such, their swift movements made them exceedingly 
troublesome to the enem3^ Wilder 's famous brigade of mounted infantry, 
w^hich served so conspicuously in the Department of the Cumberland, 
may be cited as an illustration of this style of marching and fighting. 

The fact is that until a man " got used to it," riding a horse was about 
as hard as marching and carr3'ing a knapsack of reasonable size. On 
reaching camp at night the infantryman had nothing to do but to look 
after his own comfort, while the cavalr^'man had his horse to feed, water 
and groom. He was required to take good care of his horse, and to 
make this his first business. The supplying of his own wants was a sec« 



THE ARTILLERY. 695 

ondary consideration. On the whole it may fairly be doubted whether 
the cavalryman had any appreciable advantage over him who trudged 
along on foot, save in the matter of foraging. He scoured the country 
and had the first pick of the chickens and pigs and the fruit of orchard 
and field, and he did not leave anything for his mere slowly traveling 
comrade if he could help it. In this sphere of activity the average cav- 
alryman was "a terror." 

The minds of the infantrymen were further poisoned by the belief that 
the artillerymen had altogether too easy a time of it when on the march. 
It was conceded that an equitable share of the fighting fell to the latter, 
and that they did it well. But it was exasperating to the weary plodder, 
with smarting feet and aching bones, to see the artillerymen strolling 
along with nothing to carry but their haversacks and canteens, their 
knapsacks and blankets being piled upon the caissons and "limbers." 
This drove the iron into the infantryman's soul. Each piece of artillery, 
and each caisson, battery-wagon, etc., was drawn by four or si.K horses, 
with numerous drivers, one of whom rode the "nigh "animal of each pair. 
If a gunner or "powder-monkey" tired of walking he would exchange 
for an hour with one of the drivers, the latter being glad of a chance to 
stretch his legs. These things had a disquieting effect upon the temper 
of the foot soldier, and caused him to bewail, in sheolic language, the 
cruel fate that led him to enlist in the infantrj' instead of the artiller3\ 

Batteries going into position under fire were often seriously embar- 
rassed bj' the killing and wounding of horses. Artillerj-men were pro- 
vided with knives, with which they slashed the harness and cut loose 
from a dead or disabled animal, and the remaining horses dashed on with 
the gun. Sometimes when going at a mad gallop, a killed or wounded 
horse was dragged along the ground a great distance. Occasionally 
a battery in action lost so many of its horses that in case of retreat or 
change of position the guns had to be hauled by the men, details from 
the mfantrj' perhaps assisting in the work. For this purpose long ropes 
were provided, and in this way many guns ■were saved from capture. 

Late in the war several regiments of " heavy artillery " were recruited. 
The name was attractive, particularly when coupled with the exjjecta- 
tion that the duty would be confined to manning the heavy guns in the 
forts. This pleasing fiction quickh^ filled to overflowing the ranks of 
these regiments. Some of them took the field with as high as eighteen 
hundred men each. But instead of sitting down behind the big guns 
these regiments were armed with muskets as infantry and ordered to "go 
in.'- They did so, suffering tremendous lossesin the battles around Rich- 
mond. 

Each infantr}' regiment habitually carried two silk flags, which, to- 
gether, constituted a " stand " of colors. One was the regulation "stars 
and stripes" and the other, sometimes called the "banner," was often a 
state flag, bearing appropriate devices, presented by friends of the regiment. 
The colors were the rallying point of a regiment. If it lost its colors it 
was liable to broome a disorganized mass. The appearance of a long line 



696 THE COLORS— DEPLETED REGLMENTS. 

advancing with waving flags illustrated in the clearest manner the force 
and beauty of the words (Song of Solomon vi : 10) "terrible as an army 
with banners." It was esteemed a high honor to carry the colors, and 
the color-bearers were men — usuallj' sergeants — of tried courage. Each 
regiment had a color-guard of six or eight corporals, detailed from differ- 
ent companies, who marched w^ith the colors, and whose specific duty it 
was to defend them in battle. It was a post of danger, as the enemy's 
hottest fire was often directed at the colors, and at close quarters extraor- 
dinary efforts were made tocapture them, as trophies of valor. Itwas not 
inicommoninabattle for several successive color-bearers to be shot down, 
and sometimes not a man of the color-guard escaped the deadly missiles. 
Others, to take their places, were never wanting, and the instant a flag 
went down the staff was seized by other ready hands, and the ensign was 
kept waving amidst the smoke and din of conflict. 

As we have seen in the experience of the 200th Indiana, full regiments on 
taking the field were rapidly decimated by the ravages of disease and bul- 
lets. Scarcely more than half of the men enlisted proved to be physicallj* 
able to " stand the service," and battles fast thinned the ranks. New or- 
ganizations were constantly going to the front, but a "veteran "regiment 
having three hundred men was a large one. Some regiments were fortu- 
nate in occupying the less exposed positions in battle, while others, which 
had the "hot" places, were not infrequently, for the time, almost anni- 
hilated. There were repeated instances in which but one or two officers 
and a proportionate number of men of an entire regiment escaped unhurt. 
In some cases regiments became so reduced that they could not maintain 
their organizations, and were consolidated into " battalions," with others 
which had similarl3' suffered. It was always a heavy cross for its mem- 
bers when " the good of the service " made consolidation necessar3', and a 
regiment or brigade or division lost the individuality under which it had 
made name and fame. 

Some regiments received from time to time large accessions of recruits, 
by which they were kept well filled. Here and thereonebore uponits rolls 
from first to last, the names of two thousand or twenty -five hundred men 
Many high in authority strenuously advocated the policy of using the 
new levies of troops to fill up the old, depleted regiments, instead of organ- 
izing them separately. Wisely or otherwise the latter plan was generally 
adopted, and many of the veteran regiments continued but mere skeletons. 
It was urged, with much good reason, that I'aw men would sooner learn 
the thousand-and-one things that the}' must learn, if indirect association 
with those who had mastered "soldiering;" and that they would more 
readily acquire confidence and steadinei^s under fire when touchingelbows 
with the tried veterans of man)' fields. The pi-incipal difficulty lay in the 
fact that those who spent time and moncA- in recruiting expected com- 
missions as officers. 

Many regiments adopted— or were so christened by others— grotesque 
or suggestive names by which they were imiversally known through the 
armies in which they served, being scarcely mentioned, except ofliciajy, by 



REGIMENTAL "PET" NAMES— PAY — RANK. 697 

their numerical designations. As examples may be mentioned the Penn- 
S3'lvania " Bucktails," the " Orange Blossoms " — a regiment chieflj' raised 
in Orange county, New York — and a Wisconsin regiment known as the 
"Wildcats." The 50th Illinois got the name of the "Blind Half Hun- 
dred," which it retained to the end. The 8th Wisconsin carried the eagle 
"Old Abe" — well known to every soldier of the Army of the Cumber- 
land — throtigh the w^ar, and was always called the " Eagle Regiment." 
Some regiments took u^jon themselves such blood-curdling names as 
"Tigers," " Avengers," etc., suggestive of peculiarly sanguinary habits. 
Many soldiers to this day speak with evident satisfaction of their regi- 
ments as, for example, the "Bloody" 99th Rhode Island. 

Of course officers received more pay than enlisted men. The difference 
was, however, more apparent than real, as an officer was required to pay 
outof his wages, all his personal expenses — clothing, food, etc., — rarelj'less 
than $40 to $50 a month. The enlisted man was paid from $13 to $25 per 
month and "found" — that is, he received in addition his clothing and 
rations. The government kindly loaned the officer a tent to sleep in, but 
if it was lost or destroj'ed, and he failed to satisfactorily- account for it, 
he had to pay for it. Company or "line" officers received from $100 
to $120 per month, the pay increasing rapidlj' with the higher grades. 

Rank was denoted bj'shoulder-staps as follows: second lieutenant, plain 
strap with clear field ; first lieutenant, one bar in each end of the strap; 
captain, tw^o bars; major, gilt leaf; lieutenant-colonel, silver leaf ; colonel, 
spread eagle in center; brigadier-general, one star; major-general, two 
stars; lieutenant-general, three stars; general, four stars. The rank of 
" general " cannot be acquired b\' regular promotion. It can only be cre- 
ated by special act of Congress. U. S. Grant and AVilliam T. Sherman are 
the only persons who have ever held that rank in the United States Army. 
An act was passed authorizing the appointment of George Washington 
to that grade, but he was not appointed. Only Washington, Grant, 
Sherman and Sheridan have held the rank of lieutenant-general; Winfield 
Scott was a lieutenant-general by brevet. 

A brigade contained three or more regiments, there being no fixed 
number. Early in the war, when regiments were large, rarely more 
than four were placed in one brigade. In 1864 many brigades con- 
tained from six to ten regiments each — and these brigades M'ere not 
more than half as strong, numerically, as those which at the outset had 
but four. As a general thing three brigades made a division and three 
divisions a corps. The corps operating in a department constituted 
an "army" — as Army of the Potomac, Cumberland, or Tennessee. The 
corps were distinguished by badges. The colors, red, white and blue, 
indicated the divisions— first, second and third, respectively— as, a red 
trefoil or clover-leaf, First Division, Second Corps; white triangle, Second 
"division Fourth Corps; blue star, Third Division, Twentieth Corps. A 
bad'^e was wornbv ever}- soldier and also marked the wagons, tents, etc., 

of each corps. 
No badge was ever adopted for the Thirteenth Corps. Neither 



098 



TtiE CORPS BADGES. 




FIRST. 



SECOND. 




THIRD. 





















































































FOURTH. FIFTH. 



SIXTH. 






SEVENTH. EIGHTH. 



NINTH. 





TENTW. 



ELEVENTH. TWELFTH. 



THE CORPS BADGES. 



699 





FOURTEENTH. FIFTEENTH. SIXTEENTH 






SEVENTEENTH. EJCHTEENTH. NINETEENTH. 





TWENTIETH. TWEN TY -SECOND. TWENTY-THIRO 





TWENTY-FOURTH. TWENTY-FIFTH. POTOMAC CAV- 



700 



THE CORPS BADGES 






WILSON'S CAV. 



ENGINEERS. 



SIGNAL CORPS. 



was there a badge for the Twenty-first, as that corps was discontinued 
in October, 1863, when it was consolidated with the old Twentieth 
Corps. The corps so formed became the Fourth, and thus continued 
till the close of the war. Up to that time corps badges had not been gen- 
erally adopted in the western army. Soon after this the Eleventh and 
Twelfth Corps — which had been sent from the Army of the Potomac to 
reinforce the Army of the Cumberland at Chattanooga — were consolidated 
and became the new Twentieth Corps, which took as its badge the five- 
pointed star of the Twelfth. 

One of the inexplicable things about a battle was the small proportion 
of casualties, even in the bloodiest engagements, to the amount of ammu- 
nition expended. To illustrate: In a battle with, say, fifty thousand men 
on each side, lasting two days, each soldier would fire, on an average, one 
hundred cartridges. If one bullet out of one hundred struck a man, none 
in either army would escape being hit. At Chickamauga the killed and 
wounded were about thirty per cent., so that the ratio of men struck to 
rounds fired — saying nothing of the artillery — was less than one to three 
hundred. One who goes through a long, hard ba^ tie is amazed to find 
himself alive. He wonders — and well he maj^ — that any can escape. 

Some of the more familiar bugle calls have been heretofore given. The 
following will touch responsive chords in the ear and memory of every 
soldier : 



110 = J Allegro. 




The Reveille. 



i— »— F=pr— — H-y— P— [:! — i—--»— t:zii±: 






:|B— f— f— ^- 



D. C. 



^^gl 



130 = J Pretto. 



THE BUGLE CALLS. 
The General. 



701 



■■^ZZfZ, 



-i — i — I — J — I — , — r-i— — 1 — 3^ — I — J 

- »-0-m — 0-S-0 1 






|-p |- | \- m-0-0 — 0-0-0-^0-0-0 — 0-0-0- Y\ *—-■ 



Brz^f: 



:| *- E|iz=g 



d! 



t^S^iS^ 



80 = ' Andante. 



The Assembly. 









-3 — ^ — ^-^H*- 

_**! 1 1 1 — 



-0 — I— 






-^ — =- _ 



^=t^^^^^^^^^^^^ i 



81=1 ^ncfanig. 

i ! 1 1 1 — 



To the Color. 






-I f^-i— *-^-- 



i= 



-# — 0-0-0 — h\— 






— F K-F — I rP^ 



-•— #^-#-- 



:z:i^zfzm=3=r^zpE3=S=B 



l=^:^^Lz=1: 



/). o. 



^i^a 



110 = J Andante. 

„ • 3 3 



Dinner Catl» 



:j^f^u?~?~~^^^~^f?^#^ -f»=g5^H-l;LH=E^^g- ^ (» <;' 



I* — . ^^ c^l ^^i^iMtiK"^ I ^^^^ ' I mmt^rm^ ^mmmi^^^ I ^^i^^ J ^^ 



702 

80 = J Andante. 



THE BUGLE CALL*. 
Church Call. 






^^ 



?c 



E^: 



3: 



e 



3: 



-t»- • 



Officers' Call. 



:fefeE^=gZ=^=^^t=^^==^^="^^=i= -*-^ ^- ii^EJz=^z=ii3 









"6 = ' Andante. 



Retreat, 






112 = J Allegro. 

^ /'r\ f7\ <T\ 



Tattoo. 



t=z^-i 



#^-^^^P=F^=^P=^ 



:?it=t=f: 



rti:r:r:t: 






^3E, 



*-Fi- 



-•-f-l — #-l — I — #■ 



- I ^-\ -\ — I >^- l- -\-- * ' *— 



'—^—. — ^ a— F— *-*-T N-Fs-; — f^-*-s-F^ * N-ha-7 — f — -g— J 

— ^— — I ^ ^-1 — V- 1 — \-^-- — I — ^-^-\ — ^—. — I 1 — ^-- — r~i 

1 I ^— ^E^ ' fz±\ — *— ^- E* -^^— *-FF-^ h:ziM 



--W- 



f- F 1 — ^ 1 — |-F— S~^ 1 F 1 — F (- 

I 1- -I 1 1 — I — I — L| L| , — I — 1_ _| — 1_ 



-H — ^ — H -I 



'E^S 



t|=: 









/«> 



^felE^E^^jfe l^^E^pe^i^Ht:: 






i 



THE BUGLE CALLS. 
Tlie folio wit g are some of the more familiar cavalry calls: 
The General, 



70^ 



tm± 

\ —0 tf ^- 



' 9-»_m_M. — C C .'-F* ft-*_»-^ ^- 



<» *_e_*_#_« 



^S 



:^_^^«_«L-ie_4^ . e. 



3 3 3 3 



•=r^t 



-0-^0-»^r9_ 9- 
3 






Soofs and Saddles. 

3 3 3 



-P— f ^ 



•— ^f-«-*-«- 









To Horse. 



-^4-- 






T7ie jlssembly. 






To Arms, 






^^^^gE; 



>'f7~^>g- 



• — ^-^« — ^ 



E^?^E- 



i 



f04 






THK BUGLE CALi^S. 
To the Standard. 






- (Z- 


3-t: 


T * 




j-P 


— ^-"^ -- 


c^E^ 


-f- 


-i — ?— 


:- 




»' 9 ^ 


u 




— — '^^^ 


-*-•-*- 


u 


1 ^' 




~ 


[==!= 




4=:|= 


=:^ 


#• 1 


— ^_ 


1 #^ — P 






:" 












-c^-«- 


, :;^ 


^^ — 


rr* 




iz'^rz* 


• «- 1 [ - 


^ F-F-*- 


■^ — 1 — 


-•*^^ 




1 0-0-0 -0~t 


1-':*- 
!_£_ 




J 



Stable Call, 



j-^- — 0-0 0-0 * — 



f—t-fi-0-m-^. 



:^Lli^='=»=f5fL^=±±tEt=J=e 



p -# 0-0-0-0-0 — 



:_«__^-«_*-#_^: 









^ — \-0 — 0-0-0 0- 



D. a 



_^ ^_e « * »- 



: — i^-^ — tf — *— g- -* — ft: j^^ — 1 1 



5icA; Call. 






m ^ng '3 fi — fi — «_*_*_*_«___#_3-»A_«_«i^ — I j 






^atigtie Call, 

— I* 



z:=t: 



EE^EE^ 



ii~' 



^?ii=f^'=^ 



;E^E^B 



i=r=t: 



:i:=:f: 



:=^3— ^=E=t:=~*=^ 



Ep^j] 



^^riEE^^iig|lgE=1| 



A FEW FACTS AND FIGURES, 



705 



A few general facts relative to the war, condensed intotlie briefest pos- 
sible space, will be of interest. Tlie various calls for troops made by the 
President of the United States were as follows: 

April 15, 18G1, three months 75,000 

Ma3' 3, 1861, three years 500,000 

July 2, 1862, tinee years 300,000 

Aug. 4, 1862, nine months 300,000 

Oct. 17, 1863, three years 300,000 

Feb. 1, 1864, tlirec years 200,000 

March 14, 1864, three years 200,000 

July 18, 1864, three yeaVs 500,000 

Lcc. 19, 1864, three years 300,000 



Total 2,675,000 

In addition to the above, militia to the number of about 150,000 were 

called out for short periods, to meet critical emergencies. 
The following shows the total number of men furnished for the Union 

army, in all branches of the service, by each state and territory: 



Alabama 

Arkansas 

California 

Colorado Ter.... 

Connecticut 

Delaware 

Dakota Ter 

Florida 

Illinois 

Indiana 

Iowa 

Indian Nation.. 

Kansas 

Kentucky 

Louisiana 

.Maine 

Maryland 

Vlassachusetts. 

Michigan 

Minnesota 

Mississippi 

Missouri 



2,576 

8,289 

15,725 

4,903 

57,379 

13,670 

306 

1,290 

259,147 

197,167 

76,309 

3,530 

20,151 

79,025 

5,224 

72,114 

50,316 

152.048 

89,372 

25,052 

545 

109,111 



Nebraska Ter 3 

New Hampshire 34 

New Jerse\^ 81 

New York 467 



New Mexico Ter. 

Nevada 

North Carolina.. 

Ohio 

Oreeon 



6 
1 
3 
.... 319 
1 

Pennsylvania 366 

23 

31 

1 

35 



Rhode Island. 

Tennessee 

Texas 

Vermont 

Washington Ter 

West Virginia 

Wisconsin 

District of Columbia. 
Colored troojos 



32 
96 
16 
93 



,157 
,629 
010 
047 
561 
080 
156 
659 
810 
107 
699, 
092 
,965 
,262 
964 
,06.s 
,424 
,872 
,442 



Total 2,859,132 



Included in the above are 86,724 who paid their commutation aft<'i' 
having been drafted. 

There were organized from the volunteer forces, at various times, 258 
regiments and 170 independent companies of cavalr3', 57 regiments and 
2.32 separate batteries of artillery', and 1,666 regiments and 306 inde- 
pendent companies of infantry — equivalent to a total of 2,047 regiments. 



700 



death's ravages. 



in additiun there were 30 regiments, of all arms, in tlie regular amij% 
which numbered, first to last, 67,000 men. 
The following is a very nearly correct statement of the loss of life : 

Killed in battle 01,362 

Died of wounds 32,081 

Died of disease 186,216 

Died in captivity 35,000 

Various causes 2,146 



Total 316,805 

The number of Union soldiers wounded in action was 280,040, and 

184,791 were captured. Typhoid and other fevers swept away 43,715 ; 

diarrhea in its various forms, 44,558 ; lung diseases, 26,468 ; small-pox, 

7,058; measles, 5,177. 
The total number of interments in the various niitional cemeteries is 

318,870. This includes a considerable number of civilians, Confederates. 

and the dead of other wars. The following arc the most populous ot these 

cities of the dead: 



Arhngton, Va 16,264 

Nashville, Tenn 16,526 

Vicksburg, Miss 16,600 

Fredericksburg, Va 15,257 

Memphis, Tenn 13,977 

Andersonville, Ga 13,714 

Salisburv, N. C 12,126 

Chattanooga, Tenn 12,962 

Chalmette, La 12,511 

Jefferson Barracks, Mo 11,490 

Marietta, Ga 10,151 



Beaufort, S. C 9,241 

Richmond, Va 6,542 

Poplar Grove, Va 6,199 

Stone River, Tenn 0,145 

Corinth, Miss 5,716 

City Point, Va 5,152 

Hampton, Va 5,424 

Little Rock, Ark 5,602 

Mound Cit.v, 111 5,226 

Gettvsburg, Pa 3,575 

Winchester, Va 4,459 



Blood was shed in 2,261 battles and skirmishes. In 149 of these the 
loss in each, on the Union side, exceeded 500. 



II 



